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