Her alarm rings and she sighs.. she doesn't want to open these tired eyes of hers
She's not ready for the world. In the night her dreams wrap around her and protect her from uncomfortable reality. Life. She's comfortable.
She gets out of bed and stumble walks to the bathroom where she strips off her clothes, avoids the mirror, and steps into the shower. It's like rain, pelting rain.
She smears on the makeup that she's supposed to wear. The kind that makes her eyes look bigger, more beautiful. They're just average without the world.
The shadow, the crease, the bone, the curve, the color.
Her hair is growing and straight, she pulls it back. Pushes and shoves, twists and pokes until it's all hidden beneath the hairband. Perfectly hidden.
She doesn't eat, the food doesn't satisfy her clothing. She's tired of her unhappy clothes.
She's finished. One hour. She's ready.
The forgotten girl steps outside to conquer the forgetting world. It's raining.
Blue, grey, soft, damp, cool.
She stands in the empty space as the rain fixes everything that's wrong.
She's dreaming in real life. Head tilted slightly back, arms dangling. The rain touches her face and wipes away each color and line. It drips down her face, melts until her skin is smooth, bare, white. Her eyes are closed, beautiful.
The rain strokes her hair, pulls it, strands fall and hang until her hair is free. Not hiding. Hanging unashamed, happy raindrops leaving the ends.
This fulfills her. Finishes. Completes. She is herself, it won't let her be anything else.
This rain is hers.
