Some Kind of Rain


it's raining outside, and on my face as well,

but I'm behind a window. There's thunder outside,

and thunder in my house. I look away from the window,

down the stairs, where I can hear them shouting.


There's a knife on the table, and a knife in my heart. But

now the knife is in my hand, held right above my wrist.

I look down at the knife, and down the stairs. Now the

knife is out the window, in the rain, hiding from the rain

and thunder in here. This rain in here is some kind of rain.

It sure isn't natural.