Heavy ink-tinged clouds drop
dew splattered attacks across my visage.
Drifting arms splayed in surrender, I
embrace the crush of brokenness
that envelops an armored heart.

A hollowness drills in dull drumbeats
in the pitter-patter of beaded drops.
It's a welcome retreat, stinging of sacrifice,
though annums have expired, behind guises of healing,
I harbor the chills of loss without outward censure.

Numb epigrams, spoken multi-fold to my ear,
bear breakage behind closed doors.
Planning to assuage the bruise
and restrain myself, a burden of knowledge
that you still left, and the falling rain caught on...