The rain drips on your forehead,
much like the ways it falls on the others.
Yet on you they feel like the burn of an acid,
and warm like your tears.

The slurs are now muffled
behind the door
you decided to shut forever.
While they still bang on them,
don't let them in.

Somewhere along those hasty corridors,
somewhere in those strings of angry words
you found
the strength to light the brightest fire.

Your words are now
the ones
piercing their hearts.

You make us stay strong.

Your eyes.
Your voice,
and most of all,
you in your green blazer
with your hair swept to a side
and a shy smile.

No,
not your smile.

No, not now.

Your smile not now.
Because you are smiling now
with your peaceful eyes
in your sharp green blazer
to the girl sitting across the hall
while I
am walking out the **** door.

The clocks tick down from hours to seconds
leaving me at the end of a lonely road
where you and I stand at different ends
of the paths we used to tread on together.

Always out of time, aren't I?

Running.
Breathless.

I don't even have the time to put on my
**** shoes.

I am rushing down the corridors,
I don't have the key to the car,
I'm still trying to put on my shirt
and I am trying to do it all at once.

Rushing.
Out of breath.
Tears now falling.

Too late, always, aren't I?

Like a thunderstrike straight to the chest,
I get news--
far too late for the girl far too late--
you are somewhere on a bridge
waiting to take a leap of faith.

Lost in seconds pouring away
like rain on the sill.

Lungs ablaze.

Six blocks down to the river.
Distances counting themselves
from inches to naught.

A splash in the river.

Always too late.
Always too late.

Lost you.
**Too.

If the skies would break out tonight,
you will see the fury--
silver white streaks across the prussian blue,
that every once in a while,
the night too,
shall give in.

The rain rips through my turpentine roof,
splitting the cold raindrops on my forehead,
while somewhere across the city,
two lovers meet under the canopy
of a shared umbrella.

They will eventually get out of the rain
that brought them together
and reach across the surfaces
for hands in the darkness.

And get into a car,
drive away,
forgetting everything else.

Lightning strikes,
thunder roars.

They get scared,
the driver flinches
the car screeches
and I lose the only one I have.

The car swivels,
hits the one on the road before,
a flash of light
and into the one forever.

Headlight.
Heaven.

They will drive away
from the rain that brought them together,
while I will still stand there
in the rain that took away
the love of a forgotten man.

We're falling in love in reverse.

Julie was a winner.

Her eyes were made of stars
that had fallen off the sky
and they twinkled every time
she smiled.

She had dreams, and ambitions,
she did not ride on high horses,
she did not trust the words of great men,
but followed her own sense of direction.

She loved life,
and a boy who never could understand
what love actually meant.

Like flowers in spring,
her madness grew in vivid colors
and she could feel the surge
in her veins.

She was a like a flower.

And like a flower in the fall,
today was the day,
she decided to die.

She took a deep breath,
and drowned herself in cold lavender-scented bathwater,
falling into the forgotten forevers
to lie quietly, finally complete.

Julie wasn't a lie,
she was just me.

My mind is a tinderbox.

Only awaiting a reminder of
the taste of your breath and your many loves
to spark up and light a deadly fire.

It is vulnerable to hate, jealousy and other
fiery emotions,
and more than once have you deliberately
caressed the ends of this box
with an emery touch.

It feeds on past sensations of the skin,
forgotten beatings of the heart,
and promises only skin deep--
they are still just the sensations
from crosses you made on your chest.

It is a bubble, waiting to burst.

But make no mistake,
it is very powerful.
Do not, and I repeat, do not
let yourself be swept away with fuzzy emptiness
and homely tempts.

It is awaiting only a weak moment.
Like a swish of warm breath
on a stack of old dry grass,
to start a fire so bright
you have to squint.