Acid Rain

Maybe it’ll be short; seconds, minutes, hours.
My windshield might be dotted with spots of sadness,
Soon to drip to the ground and dry up in the incoming sunlight.
There might be a rainbow, and suddenly I'll be happy again,
Playing in the little droplets littering the sky,
No longer wonder why the day decided to be so dreary.
Skin absorbing the serotonin vitamin C brings,
Everything refreshed with the smell of contentment in the air.

Maybe it’ll be long; days, weeks, months.
My window; the underside of a waterfall,
Flooded with regret and self-hatred, seemingly out of nowhere.
I don’t have the strength to push open my door against the flooding,
So I sit, lay, in place, and stare at the wall,
The water engulfing me until it reaches my tear ducts.
Lack of oxygen invades my veins and brain,
Everything black, and the touch of liquid fills my body’s emptiness, weighing me down.

Out of nowhere, it seems,
Though surely the gods must have a reason for why.
Was it something I'd done? Said?
I did what I was meant to,
I thought.
So why on Earth is it still pouring at chance?

Is it just me?
Maybe it’s a figment of my imagination,
Stamped in my brain.
Maybe rainbows aren’t real,
Just hallucinations of what my mind wants to see.
Maybe everyone always sees rain outside their window.
Maybe their glass is treated with the same respect my glossy eyes are,
Water running from them day to day.
Maybe I’m not accustomed to it,
Lucky, privileged.

Or maybe I’m drowning,
In the pool that poisons me.
Since when did the gods use acid rain?