Let your imagination soar and create your own story on this short poem of confession. 

The words rolled out of my mouth like the clouds above my head.

It should have been soft and sweet like a cotton candy

But instead it was prickly like the heat.

Slowly the mood changed just like the sky turned dark.

And I saw little crease of wrinkles as the rain begin to drop.

Pitter-pat, pitter-pat.

That was how it sounded. But another sound emerged as I heard her sob.

I should have known better.

Now it was too late as I stood drenched and soaking wet.

But it was nothing comparable to what she must have felt.

I knew, for the searing pain on my cheek was still burning hot amidst the trickle of the cool summer rain.

And that was how it ended.