Rain

Drip…drip…drip dropping
down the walls of my
entrapment, a place supposed to be
where Dorothy longed for, no
place for the space inside my mind’s
eye cause I see the storm coming,
feel the moisture of the downpour
through the leak in the ceiling,
opening my eyes to the sky
to look to the future, but for now…
Now I see flying cows and
low riding clouds that want
A piece of me, tugging from
the west and east and the
line that divides the sides of my body
is weakening. Let go, why stitch
and sew this divided and conquered soul,
maybe I am reaping what I sow or
just taking this external beating while
the thing up in my chest internally
keeps beating and my cuts
keep bleeding, and my mind
is seething and the haters
keep scheming and the rain
keeps sheeting. Or maybe this
downpour is a blessing, packed with
little mini lessons to prevent me
from stressing and rely on
the message that hits me in
my face as the sky
sounds its breaks; a loud call
from on high as
I try to
touch the sky.