I used to walk the
railroad tracks in the rain.
I wouldn’t stop until the rain stopped.
Sometimes you’d have to come get me
And the rain would triple in power when you carried me back:
















it was crying for me

I would get sick.
You would whistle in my ears
and rub my cracked lips:



smooth out the pain for me
Your vague face told me that you were getting tired of this routine.

You were thankful in the summer
when it wouldn’t rain as much.
I’d sit by the window while the
clouds were in pain, aching for me to come out and play:














but I was inconsolable

You left me a noteworthy note
just before it rained one day.
You said you wouldn’t be here to stop me
or the rain. You were leaving:









jerk