Dear you,

Nope.
It’s not the rain that you hate
But the memories that come crashing down
When the little drops meet the ground.
Those days you couldn’t replay,
Like a photo you could look back to,
But could never live on anymore.
The thought of a place you couldn’t be in,
As the tiny crystals shine in delight through your window pane.
It’s the song you used to sing,
But now you hate to hear
As the raindrops fall to the roof,
With the perfect melody
That hums as your heart beats.

Nope,
It’s not the rain you hate,
But the emptiness you feel,
For things you could’ve
or could’ve not done.
Nope,
It’s not the rain you hate.
You love the sound it creates,
Like a lullaby on sleepless nights.
You love how it make its way down
On your glass window
As you trace them with your fingertips.
You love how each drop feels
Against your skin
Against your palm,
Against your face
Welcoming every tear.
Nope,
It’s not the rain you hate,
But the things
that made you think you hate it.
So dear,
See how beautiful the rain is.
It does remind you of pain,
But mirth always comes with it.

With a drop of my own rain,
Vier.

Letters From Vier

Letters. They’re just letters. I might or might not send it. You might or might not read them. You might or might not want to write a response. Nonetheless, let me keep them. Let me scribble the words I could never say. Let me tell you what you should or should not know.  Just let me.

Let me write you a letter.

(Decided to create an fb page. Page name is on the title. You can visit if you’d like. Cheers!:))

100-Word Story: Just Suicidal

She was okay. She had a happy family. She had friends— only few but enough. She had a normal life, laughing with her friends on their crazy days. She might be sad at times, yet she never cried. Nobody saw her shed tears. She was always happy. So when her lifeless body was found lying on her bed, with a note clutched in her hand, everyone was dumbfounded. They couldn’t believe. They didn’t want to believe. They didn’t notice her sad eyes when she smiled. They’ve  thought she was okay, but her note proved otherwise—she had always felt empty.