Pain is like water to me.
It washes off my skin so easily,
But leaves a trail of stranger tears
While it drips slowly to the floor
In a heap of an unwanted mass.

The water can be overwhelming
To a point of utter catastrophe.
Luckily I brush it off and shrug,
Knowing that it will come back someday.
It always does.

Everywhere I go I get caught up in it,
Because water is in the air I breathe,
In the blood running through my veins,
And the food I eat at the dinner table.
Pain is with me at all times.

Water can be two things:
It can be something we need to survive,
Or it can be something that we fear the most.
I love and hate the water,
Because without evaporation my world is over.