Weather

So there it was, at the end of the day, the little black spot again. In the middle of my chest, it looks like a tiny spider with long sharped legs. I'm scared. It's been a while, the days keep passing, and i'm so afraid to touch it, to taste it. The little black spot. Maybe it is just like a cloud, not a spider. A stormy tiny cloud. Yes, I believe that's it. Because that's the weather of my last weeks. I'm standing in the middle of the storm, all wet, mixing tears with drops. This is my little black spot at the end of the day, in the middle of my chest. It will not go away. This water can't wash it away. This is my weather.

Location: Home
Mood: Lonely
Music: An eye for an eye, Judith