Will is
A boy of
Certainty.
He knows
Where he wants to
Go, what he
Wants to do,
His goals.
Why should I be the
One to restrain
Him
And when
He is
So sure
And I am so full of doubt.
I don't want to
Be the rain
That falls on him
As he's trying to
Walk up a mountain.
I don't want to slow him down and
Cling to him
Because I don't know
What to do.
When he kisses
Me, I fall
Into a trance.
All I can hear
Is the rain lashing
On the window.
Angry, forceful, constant.
It reminds
Me that I am
Not in love with
A boy who is so assured.
We are out of place,
We do not fit together:
Not like this.
You're confident too
But in a different way.
I think I prefer Will's confidence,
Quietly satisfied.
Yet, overall
I prefer you.
I'm just,
I suppose,
The rain
On the outside.
Looking in.
And no matter how
Many times
I bang on the
Window, no one
Will hear me.
They just accept that I
Am only a nussience to them.
I like the rain
Because
We have a lot
In common.
Sometimes, after
A fight,
I will go up into the
Loft where the rain is louder and
It drums out all other
Thoughts.
Or I will go to the park and
Let it kiss my
Scars better.
No one will walk past,
For they are
Deterred by the rain,
And if they do,
They can't tell that I'm crying.
(found half washed away by the rain in a gutter)
YOU ARE READING
Faded
Teen FictionBecause in the end, we are all irrelevant. Especially me. {A series of notes and letters written by a girl called Chloe McMullen, found in places you would least expect}
