You catch me with the
slightest scent, the faintest
whisper, when the rain
patters on my windowsill
almost infuriatingly – on those
quiet mornings when life is a
sickeningly serene lull.
You fill the atmosphere with the
repeating strums of your sweet
melody, never failing to remind me
of the brutal state called the
This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.