A splatter of life

HarsH ReaLiTy

I watch as raindrops splatter their lives upon my window and imagine what their souls must look like. How pure must a transparent soul be? Would it scream in delight at the freedom from bursting bubble or instead wail in dismay at the loss of comfort. At least it would not be lonely I think to myself as the rain turns red before my eyes. It pauses in the air and lets me know I am dreaming. Red droplets to match the trails from my eyes. The tears of reality as I watch a moment die. And remember a moment lived.

44.32.1

-OM

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