It Keeps Getting In My Eyes

The rain

keeps getting in my eyes

But I let it.

The rain can wash away

my tears

my anguish

my anger.

The coldness hits my

inflammed skin,

red and

burnt,

and slides over,

all jello-like

The dirt

keeps getting in my eyes

And I rub it away.

The dirt hits familiar

nerves

pain

fustration.

The specks rub my wet face,

scratched and

sparked with fire,

and grazes over,

much like a scrub

The memory

keeps getting in my eyes

so I freeze from it.

The memory reminds me of

the fear

the anxiety

the brightness

The sights and sounds claw my

raw brain,

tainted and

burned out,

and pierces to my heart

similarly to vampire venom.