Cold
I sit still in the rain with my
Heart gone but for a beat like the
Pounding of my eardrums on
Your last words to me.
Drip drops patter ferociously as they
Hit the concrete slab beneath my
Soppy wet figure and my
Tears blend in perfectly to the
Water gliding across my form.
Something in the way the
Liquid hits the blades of grass as it
Trails down the hill to the
Gutter where I wish I could
Toss the lived nightmare
Of you
Makes me calm in a
Moment and catch my
Quaking breath.
I slip back and forth like a
Pendulum with no
Center as more
Clouds roll in and the
Leaves cry alongside me.
The forest sings me sweet
Lullabies as salamanders slide by my
Soggy boots and the gutter hushes
Me to rest my
Sagging eyes and take some time to
Acknowledge the crisp air beneath
The storm.
In a hollow place in my
Aching head I see the
Quaintness of the
Drip drops in the evening and I
Grasp myself softly to
Remember I’m still here.
—
Thank you for reading. This poem was born from a vivid memory of giving myself some sweet solitude in a time of trauma. The choppiness of the flow is designed to match the tattered breaths, and harsh gulps of air that often accompany a deep cry. If you enjoyed the read, and would like to show support, please continue to explore and share my work. Tips are also greatly appreciated.
About the Creator
Darin Leigh
Just the ramblings of an artist in her 20s. I write a lot of unplanned poetry. I hope you enjoy
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