Of the Rain (Poem)

I can trace the words against my skin,

and all I want is to erase them from every part of me,

but I know that will never be,

cause they won't wash away

unless it's by the water of the rain.

Nothing but the porch light is on,

and all that can be heard

are the whispers that I've thrown into the wind,

letting them be carried away,

on the backs of raindrops.

I can't help but wonder

what it'll be like once I step into the rain,

will the words finally disappear?

Will my mind finally clear?

There's only one way to find out,

and I'm done waiting.