The rain trickles down,
it hides my tears,
Thank God its cold,
cuz it hides my shivers,
from inside my soul.

The drops – Ice cold, Freezing.
Yet it burns too -
as if on fire,
burning, freezing my skin,
Deep, so deep.

Would it hurt worse,
if a knife cut me?
Could it slice deeper,
causing even more scarring?
No, The Rain hurts more.

The rain – once purified me,
it -needs totally cleansed me.
Refreshed and nourished me.
Kept me alive.
Kept me thriving.

But once you left,
Water stopped descending,
and acid poured on in.
Hot like fire,
and cold like ice.

It stung.
Yes, The rain hurt me more.