A rainy Saturday

I watch the tiny beads crash faintly on the outside ground
i am safe

i continue to stare at the tear-like drops
as it begins to form an orchestra of hard slaps
i am still safe

it's a school day and I'm wearing white
i turn red at the thought of what would be exposed
but i am still safe

it seems impossible for me to linger in this supposed shelter any longer
my safety cannot prolong

sloshes of murky water jump like the children of summer
even thought my solitary step was mere
i cringe

my uniform catches the little black sprinkles from the pouring rain
i cringe again

a sheet of plastic pressed against my skin
i am bare. i am safe. but i am wet.