The emptiness inside my heart keeps getting bigger and bigger every time a raindrop falls.
Empty, yet heavy.
Strange, yet familiar.
Sometimes, I wonder… Aren’t those raindrops like me? Just keep falling and falling and falling… until they collide with the hard and rough surface.
And, raindrops are raindrops only when they are falling, aren’t they? Useless, fragile and sad. A drop of a transparent liquid that doesn’t know where it is going to head. No sense of direction. No hope. No desire…
Yet, why am I still waiting for raindrops to fall every time staring at the cloudy sky?