On rainy days,
I feel lost when
you are not here.
I gaze out the window,
watching the rain
soak the world outside.
The trees sway in
the cool breeze,
and all I can
think about is you.
Yes,
on rainy days,
I feel like I'm 17 again.  
Starving my bones,
and staring at my phone.
Waiting for your message,
"Come over, I'm waiting".
I'd pull on my jacket,
and walk a few blocks
down the street.
Butterflies in my belly
the whole way there.
Yes,
on rainy days,
I think of you.
I think of the first time
you held me in your arms
while the rain washed
my sorrows away.
You held me so close,
I knew you loved me,
before your lips spoke
a single word.
I was yours.
You were mine.
Our eyes told
each other everything.

I take another drag as you brush the hair from your face
Book in hand
You glance my way and the disappointment is palpable
It's raining now
I inhale the last of the smoke
Gazing deep into your perfect disappointment
Smirking
Flicking the white cancer on to the asphalt
I turn on me heel
And am gone

Or that's how I imagined it

I want to replay
the roles of Juliet and Romeo,
Sneaking over for each other's company,
Feeling your skin against my own,
Draping me in your cologne.

And I want to wake up,
With my head upon your chest,
Surrounded by the warmth,
Of your button down shirt,
And the protection of your arms.

And nothing else.

Sly
like a serpent silently
slipping
under the skin
slithering
up though the spinal cord
to secretly settle
inside your skull
where it will sit
and sedate
your senses
with sweet seductive
songs of
sleep

poetry became
reality
words literally
smashed her
and she
transformed