the sharp extremities of the world cutting deep
droplets of you falling
forming
a sea deeper than my wounds
blurred at the edges
melting the heart strings
soft
leaving only the pitter patter of calm
to rest among my withered shoulders

but the droplets they
dissolved
drained away and
I am cold
for the sharp edges have gone for good
but replaced by a fog
a void
your absence
clings to me
the way damp clothes do
after the rain.

stained.
I can see my breath in the air
you are everywhere
maybe if I absorb you
i'll change
with the rain

a discarded umbrella
an open window
unsheltered heartbreak
if I bleed all that I have
without protection
maybe the clothes, like the droplets
will fade away

and you'll no longer cling
to my skin
because the cuts will be clean
after the rain.