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.