Strange how it is to be amidst this downpour,
when all I feel inside is but a deep . . . deep silence.
Of need, of longing, suppressed into tiny little diamonds,
to shatter the surface of my reverie.
I dare not go inside, where I can’t feel the pain.
I dare not go inside and miss what else I’ll gain.
Fleeting moments linger on corrugated roofs,
as it lingers on the edge of my mind.
To only fall when gales of wind
blows memories into sweet oblivion.
This downpour obscures that which I don’t want to see,
and drowns all the noises of my past.
Alas, this shared downpour speaks of one finality:
within the gray, you go, and I’ll stay.
I’ll . . .