She's the Rain Cloud Outside My Window

With clenched fists and tight jaw

I hold back the tidal wave urging me to become you.

With heavy heart and teary eyes

I let every word that has ever come from your lips shatter between my teeth, get lodged in my throat and dissolve there.

With determination and apparent skill

You have broken pieces of me, I have yet to put back together.

And you do it impossibly well.

Almost as if it's just a "reach in" for you.

Pushing your fingers past my skin, digging and pulling upon my ribcage to find a heart lying there.

You take joy in it's spots of darkness and you whisper.

You don't claw and attack

You don't stab and wound.

You whisper.

You whisper things that aren't so bad in a singular instance but that build and form like the thunder clouds outside my window.

You seem to lay there watching and I've learned to hear the gloom coming.

Just strike me, because that I'll understand

Force your will into the light of my eyes and then I can be openly afraid. Then I can scream because finally there's a thing I can describe. There's an instance that can level a room and equalize a crowd. That is something I can put my finger on, and put words to.

I can see the cloud, heavy with a million tears dragging it down

Settling into the dramatic makeup you wear.

I can see you, but no one else can