I can’t stand it; the echoing of your voice rings
in my ears like the thunder rolled off those hills behind your apartment as we ran inside
trying to gain shelter before the rain poured down on us and all we thought
we were. We sat there on your bed
holding each other as the storm shook the world outside. The flash of lightening lit up
your face and I realized that something changed;
I didn’t feel right in your arms. Looking into your eyes
I noticed I was hanging onto every word
that flowed out of your mouth even though I knew everything was a lie.
You kissed my forehead and my stomach didn’t fill with butterflies.
I got up and walked out that door that always stuck only to be instantly drenched

by the rain. It was then that my stomach turned, my eyes opened.
My clothes were soaked and sticking to my body but I’d never felt more unconstricted.
I became so accustomed to hiding from the rain, standing under shelters to protect myself
from the unknown.  But you’re no longer my bridge. I don’t need you

there to keep me warm and dry. I’m not just going to fly like the butterflies
that used to crowd my stomach. I’m going to conquer.
I don’t need you to save me.
I’m going to soar.