Depression

All I know that is is that rain never falls twice in the same place.

Dampness at my eyelids, sliding down cheeks, Hush my child,

it is merely rain. I am not cryin, those are not tears, and yet

even as the thunderclaps and the lightning sizzles ozone,

I am confronted with the loneliness of it all, silent and stoic,

palm trees flattened with the weight of rain, the wind which

screams like a woman and threatens to tip me over side,

to which all I can think is goddamn, this is my death

and I can only mutely watch as light burns and dark consumes,

that pain which slices deep, and you know, as I know,

that we never really speak of it though it’s there.

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