The urge questions and asks

Something I’d gladly claim

I pull my hands to do the task

To see how much I reign

The barrier I put up as planned

To only make a lightly chilling rain

Hands on hips, smile on lips, I laugh

At the beauty after my rain

It’s drizzling

Dripping

Swirling

I’ve always had the urge to make rain

Small, controllable

Like when your nose irritates

And you feel that sudden surge to itch it

Hands clasped, mental barrier up

I always succeed in silencing it

The urge grabs for my attention

I groan softly at the strain

Hands tight with tension

Using a lot of effort to restrain

The barrier faltering in its protection

From the ugliness of my own rain

Turning and churning, I whimper

And I finally let go of the rain

It’s pouring

Heaving

Swallowing

It’s almost dangerous to be out

And as soon as I think that; Crash!

A tragedy only a few feet away from me

Quick as lightning, the world goes to fire

Pain following me like rain

The urge to make rain just grows

Pressing, holding

Like when you see someone sleeping

And you feel the sudden urge

To pick up a pillow

Suffocate them

Hands tight, mental barrier barely holding

Sometimes you fail to silence it

The urge jerking and grabbing

My being, my blood, my veins

Hands clasped so tight but separating

My body failing to withstand the pain

The barrier bursting and breaking

Unable to stop my own rain

Knees jolting, blackness looming, I cry out

And everything b r e a k s

It’s raging

Higher and thundering

Flooding

With no escape

Scrambling inside to find water pouring

Climbing to the highest building and failing

Water bigger than ever before

Consuming cars, people, anything

Everything

And when it’s finally over?

Nothing. Nobody. All gone and wiped away

Nothing except me and the silence

The silence after the rain