rain love poetry
Poetry

When your best friend leaves you

Today is March the 12th and the smell of rain lingers in the air like the smell of my bed-sheets after his body coiled and turned in them, wrinkling them, marking them as his territory.
The almost-invisible change sprouts out of old, almost forgotten, time-bleached memories that were supposed to be cherished for a lifetime, but somehow, they got lost into the labyrinth of your doubts, sorrows, and busy days.

But change, unlike memories, strengthens and blooms like the flowers that will crack the soil later this month.

You crave for a spring in your existence,
you try to forget what you desire and focus on what you need,
you leave your story unwritten, muted, suffocated,
under the mixed pressure of expectations and fears
and you only hope that one day your soul will expand like the Universe in the space you consider truthful: a space filled with joy,
blessed with love, caressed with understanding.

You believe in a world of justice, of action-and-reaction,
a world where a sunny view is more than just a sun kissing the mountains all over their curves,
a world where the smell of the Ocean not only a mere chemistry, but also an inhalation that sets you free.

You believe in a world where the seconds are in a hurry to pass you by when you feel left alone, abandoned,
counting the moments you spend with your best friend named Sadness.

You believe in a world where people do not leave their best friends,
yet, you hope Sadness will one day leave you and in Her absence
you will grow,
grow,
grow
and linger in the air like the smell of the rain on March the 12th.

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