Many days I fell as though i have been subjected within the confines of an egg shell. My sister, with her strange but strangely understandable humor, would laugh at this statement simply because of the appearance of the word “egg”, yet the complete idea of this statement is less than comical to me. Within this shell, I am trapped in my archaic period of growth, breathing but not living despite my desperate efforts to break free. I am under its constant shadow. Because of the lack of the sun’s warmth and comforting light, I’m slowly fading from the world that has yet to meet me.
Maybe I don’t want the rain.
