Like a storm surge, you wipe me out completely.
The loud howl of your wind bringing moans piercing in my ears is worsened by your deafening thunders commanding me to give up; to succumb to your power and strength that’s underscored in every blinding lightning striking mid-air.
You are strong — one I am fearful to face, like a deadly tornado building rapidly in sight. And even if you choose to be calmer at times, almost not felt — your mere presence, knowing that you are there makes me nervous.
But against all these odds, I still want your rains to fall, because your absence makes me numb to the comforts and discomforts of sunny days. I do not mind sharing your troubles. You make a lot of people nervous and numb, but you seem not to care. You just thoughtlessly show your face of dark clouds in the sky, grinning at every dreadful heads looking up to you.
You give me a lot of reasons to hate you. You give me pain, but pain that I’m willing to suffer from. The scent of the moisture you bring, like the smell of fresh cut grass, gives me feelings my vocabulary cannot describe. Your heavy rainfall hinders me from doing a lot of things, worries me, stops me from thinking of anything else but you. And after moving over water, you landfall in the most unlikely area, flooding the entirety of my body, heart, and mind.
But just like any other storms, you would leave, never to come back. I will be left alone to pick up the pieces you destroyed, questioning every reason why I survived.