Yesterday, I heard rain at my window
It woke me up from fairy light dreams and it aroused me to a stupor
I started to cry so that it matched the raindrops tickling my windows, making them shiver with unabashed laughter. I couldn't laugh though, for Instagram models kept dancing at my temples.
My mind was their ballroom floor, their runway. My tears was the glitter that made their dresses stand out and made their bodies more voluptuous than mine.
I furiously wipe my external pity away, though it still ached in the inside. I just didn't want those models to see me weak.
The raindrops still taunt me from behind the window.
I turn away, count slowly on my fingers, not manicured but painted with a polish of hope that God had placed in my heart: "Have you forgotten? Have you forgotten what I have done for you already?”
By the time I finished counting my tears resumed, but they shone with a quiet recognition, a sparkle of soft reverence. I open my window.
The rain was pounding ever so slowly now, but I didn't care. They could laugh all they want. I stuck at my tongue, to show my defiance, and I stuck out my tongue, to taste the drops.