I fiddle with these words
They lie naked on my tongue.
But like a broken man
They just can't seem to run.

I've learned not to force this.
To push this past my lips,
A tragedy worse than my travesties.
I'm still a little faint of heart.

When rain falls it does not smear.
It sticks, and then it drips.
Well these 3 syllables are certainly glued,
But we both still feel a little bruised.

When my lips do decide to spill
These raindrops it has coaxed inside,
Will you know that they fall gracefully, honestly?
They were meant to be taken gently.

A cool breeze should encourage them.
Will they wet your worn skin
Soak into you like a refreshing swim
Will they moisten your heart and not just your limbs?

Or where I see a downpour do you see a spark.
Awaiting a new host, softly lighting the dark.
Growing ever closer to your extended fuse.
When you ignite, will I be consumed?

Does it help, when I state your name.
When I beckon, do I carry you close to sanity?
Or do I hurl you farther,
Over the edge of calamity.

Tell me, When you fall
Will it be like raindrops, or a cliff.
At least, tell me, when you fall
Could you find it in your drenched heart,
Or scorched lungs,
To let me join you?