it demands to be felt.
— John Green
Don't get up in the night.
Don't fret, worry or chew your nails
Staring at the rain
Looking for answers—
When there aren't any,
At least,
None in the rain-streaked pane
Or boiling puddles
Of pain.
Go back to bed and dream
About the first time we met—
How kind I was
And how I always remembered to whisper
Your name
Like a sacred incantation—
Then, ask yourself
Was it me or was it you...
Perhaps, it was the mythical Someones
Whom we all know
Can call a game
Beacause of rain.