𝐀𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐊𝐀

RAINY DAYS AND MONDAYS it's tight in the backseat, and all i am aware of is the pitter patter of the rain that's hitting the roof of the car. it's loud and relentless, like the thoughts at the back of my head. i look around as we pass green fields lined with trees, parking lots full of cars, and pedestrians, sheltered under the protection of their colorful umbrellas. along the wet street, with all the tires skirting along the road, i see fallen leaves and pink flowers going with the flow of the rainfall and sliding towards the gutter. everything is loud, so i shut it all out, ignoring the revving of nearby motorcycles, the beeping of cars behind us, the chatter from commuters trying to catch a ride. i block out the voices of my family; my grandma talking about the stores we pass, my sister speaking to my grandpa about the news on the television, my mom reprimanding my dad about a stoplight he missed. i wish i could do the same to the thoughts in my head, but in the midst of it all, the rain persists.