Over the course of the last few days, the clouds birthed a deluge. I can't say I'm suffering, but there's a constancy I'm lacking in the midst of flash flood warnings. There's a despondency imbued into the overarching narrative of this odd dream that I feel I'm living through vicarious sensations and small moments of poetry.
I guess I'm still waiting for that person to whom I can say-
"Without you today's emotions would be the scurf of yesterday's".