Sadness latched itself onto my drenched set of clothes as I was about to leave the room, completely, this time
Packs of long, dark, ominous clouds hang around my head—as if it were trying to water my scalp
Thunder roars for my earbuds to detect from miles away, making my whole body tremble, giving a sign of impure justice
Is it the everlasting texture of soft, maroon-like, foreign blood passing by?
Or maybe it has always been that rusty, old cubic hydraulic press ready to force another diamond into existence?
The table was never empty; it was never vacant, at least, not for me
All I could taste was the bitter fury left after a false sense of hope
I mean, can I blame myself for falling if hope tasted like that drizzling in sweet, caramel-glazed chocolate, topped with a handful of rainbow sprinkles ice cream cake from Dairy Queen?
Maybe in another life, I would've been able to smell the sweet taste of freshly-brewed hot choco and pancakes fresh out the pan along with the words, "I love you"