Should I throw away the umbrella this once? Will you care for my tears like they'll taste like rain on your tongue and will you sway to the buzz inside my ears from the alcohol like it's the tune to "When I die alone, I'll be on time"? //please read the entire poem in caption// There are memories that smell like vintage coffee beans and fade away like like the first rays of the sun on any otherwise, cloudy day. There are memories that trace patterns on their own every time we let them mix with the dried paint on the water colour palette. These are memories that are like the silver lining in the huddled up grey of the clouds, but you lose them in no time. Because in the time you've looked down at your feet and registered the mud staining them from a shower spell, th