It was the first storm of the season.

After months, so dry.

The rain pouring down, washing away the watchful eyes.

Cradling myself, I say goodbye.

Thunder crashes, muffling past cries.

The rain gets louder, yet the noise goes quiet.

I can’t say what I think, I can only write it.

If I try to speak, it comes out jumbled.

Some might think, I’m a little troubled.

So now that the past thoughts have washed away,

I prepare myself for the next onslaught,

As if, at this point, it isn’t cliche.

Cradling myself, I say goodbye.

Thunder crashes, muffling past cries.

The rain gets louder, yet the noise goes quiet.