falling water

 it’s raining today in Texas and I can see her eyes in the sky’s tears. 

the ground is wet like her mouth. 

the air smells of smoke like her hair. 

the day is still, just like she is so still sometimes. 

drops of water fall from metal gutters the way salt crawled down her face when she cried that time.

dropping from her chin at a slow and wretched pace.

those very tears were the death of me and they haunt me on every rainy day.

i smoke and then i drink . i try to eat. try not to think… I wait for her to write because i know she’d never call.