In hopes to wash away the pain,

To cleanse my soul and make it new again.

With every drop I learn to gain,

This hate of mine is an ugly stain.

So to rid myself of what I contain,

I have to bathe out in the rain.


Like a livid hornet in my brain,

pour the poison down the drain.

Being sober is my wolfsbane,

I need to taste that pure grain,

cool and refreshing like the rain.


In hopes that this will keep me sane,

With every word I must refrain.

To bring relief to this long time strain,

And to stop the boil in my veins,

I have to bathe out in the rain.




Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741