Crying, Walking in the Rain

there's nothing poetic about crying in the rain.

the splashing, icy drops do less to obscure your heartache

and more to magnify your pain.

there's nothing romantic about the walk.

the rainy one, where you are crying,

stepping in muddy puddles not visible

through the cruel mix of water and tears.

it's not like a movie, the rolling thunder.

it does nothing to disguise the sound of approaching tires.

his car never pulls along beside you

he never jumps out and embraces you

he does not even know that you are

crying, walking in the rain.

and if he did,

he would say you were

being dramatic.

which might be true, but seems hard to avoid

when the heartbreak pounds as relentlessly as the rain.

and even though you know

countless people throughout all of time

have felt this same

isolation

this same desperation in the face of an

unfathomable storm

you feel alone

and unique in your misery

and every red car that isn't his

is a reminder of just how alone

you really are.