It is a tingle
Not the kind you’d like to have
Or you yearn to feel.
You sense the heat rise
Heart pumps faster than ever
Cold hands clench hard.
Without a warning
Fingers starts to wildly thump
Writing your way out?
Coming to your wits
You begin to see a soul
Confused and shaken.
When it mellows down
To a degree that shame one
You’d hope it’s not real.
about the rain 