All The World's A Stage - A Collection Of Monologues

BILLY:
​"When it rains it pours", they say.
But I don't think rain only pours. No. I think rain rattles. It punches. It hollers. It blows. It sprints. It strikes. It wows. It smothers. It aches. It hurts. It bleeds. It bleeds. It bleeds. When it rains -- it bleeds. 
And this may surprise some folks, but I like it!  Heck yeah, I like the bleeding of the rain, especially on cold lonely nights. I sit on my fire escape, no shoes, so I can step into the precious elixir. So I can get baptized all over again. So I can clean myself of the monster within. And boy do I feel clean afterwords. Like a heavenly spa dropped down and dumbed some holy goodness onto my little human body. And it washed away the dread for a few moments. It washed away the pain. The memory of pain. It washed away the monster. 
Then, when the avalanche of rain stops, it's like a little death just happened. The sudden silence feels jarring, like loss making its way into me, reminding me that no amount of rain can take away my monster. My monster is here to stay, rain or shine.
I'd rather it rain. I'd rather it would always rain.