Under the rain, I am restrained, with nowhere to face except for all the things coming my way.
Water once cold and warm, formed marshes in my deserted home.
In a funny world, I was evergreen, until the rain moated my soul.
And I, as Tiresias, have foresuffered all, under water touched by a trojan whore.
Inextricably entwined with the pressure of living. Of this formerly me, I am a patron.
Free to protect me, as you go to where you’d live ruefully.
My reflection of you was gone by day. You’re no longer the things you meant to me, the colors I see or the words I please but you’re chained to my neck, like steps taken on wet cement.
The reason you came is the reason I want you to stay.
The reason you’re here is the reason I need you to leave.