The Melancholy Of Molecules Poem by Raj Dronamraju

The rain was like bullets
Firing me indoors
Under a covering, something heavy and solid

If I knock it with my fist so it is proven tangible
Does the inhuman nature of matter classified only as inanimate material break hearts?
Or is matter as a subject immune to such psychological constraints

Privatize the soul and hardship
The compost heap is full of those who dictated terms to form based reality
The molecules are faith based, not restrained by such psychological constraints

The rain was like bullets
It shattered my nerve
It stayed with me and made me shaky for weeks afterwards

Oh I can feel it with my two hands
So unlike the blissful not questioning each breath
Never thinking about what makes skin skin, brick, brick, dirt, dirt