watching the raindrops
splatter on my windshield
much like bugs do
when the weather outside
does not match my eyes

watching the windshield wipers
float the rain
off the glass, and on to the road
wishing i had my own
so my rain wouldn't fall
into my lap

watching the tears
and minutes old raindrops
soak into my jeans
and chill my skin to ice
so it matches your heart

watching knuckles turn white
as i grip the steering wheel
fighting the spot in my mind
that nudge
telling me to leave the tarmac
and seek my guardian angel

maybe just like the bright sun
stopped the rain
my angel will stop my tears