Raindrops on your pillow.
The steady
pitter patter.
No cats or dogs
Thunder, lightning
Storm clouds.
In fact
the room shines like the Cross.
Radiant, warm
And yet
darkness still leaks through the floorboards
like water.

Red raindrops
On the carpet,
In the sink
Soak into the paper
like ink left to drown.
Not fiery red, anger has
drained away. Little left.
But rose red, sense of sadness.
It's silent.

Does water hit your screen?
Fizzle, and burn?
Shallow water,
like the feeling of loneliness,
the emptiness of guilt.
Are your tears real?
Or fake, forced
Dry and shallow
A mirage, eyes open
Seeking attention, love?
Likes on Instagram.

Their tears hit my pillow
Lying in the dark, alone
but for One.

Not sitting with friends
forcing them to come
Eyes dry as the desert.

Not editing an essay
Perfectly constructed
Posted to your followers.

But the dead feeling, it's inside
Only you can see it, touch it
It's silent. Lonely. Shallow.
Like water.