Metal Roof.

You don't realize the impact your words and actions have.
Or their consequences.
You have made me question everything.
You're ruining my life.
I hate you for making me feel this way.
I don't even know who you are.

But I'm bitter.
Sitting.
Stewing.

It's easier to keep digging, than to climb out.
So I keep digging.
And digging.
A little more.

And then finally,
The rain, on my metal roof.
Washing the world.. my world clean.

It feels good.
It is good.

But it's over.
And I quickly forget the redemption it brought.

This metal roof. This exterior.
Always clean.
But what about what's underneath?
It longs for the rain.
And true redemption.

My shovel is worn.
But I keep digging.
With soaked hands.
Not from rain.
But tears.
I'm so tired of digging.

...