Tear-Stained Hurricane

I can barely write for the wind blowing the pages everywhere,
rain making the ink run, my vision blur.

I'm frozen to this spot and can't move
the exhaustion and the chill seeping into my being.

I love the rain, the wind whipping at my hair,
but it can't stay like this.

I feel alive, crackling with energy,
my umbrella left at home today, my shoes soaking wet.

I wait, I wait until the very last minute,
And then I run for shelter.

I run, my glasses spotted,
I run, my phone getting wet.

I run like a coward,
I run away from the rain.

I run before I know what I'm running from,
and where I'm running to.

I run whether or not I know where I'm going.