Heavy Rain

Drip…
Drip…
Drip.
Have you ever watched,
the raindrops…
on a train window?

The best are dirty train windows.
Each drop struggling,
straining,
to get further down the pane,
and down,
some more…
Before the express comes past,
and wipes them out.

Channels of fear.
Ruts of disillusion.
Dodging in, then out, left, then right.
Don’t let me hit that big fat raindrop.
I don’t wanna disappear,
I wanna run, I wanna run.

But doesn’t that just happen on sad days?
Grey days?
Desolate, going away from somebody days?

Outside the sky is heavy,
leadened,
and low.
Outside the rain is nearly horizontal,
and you can see the wind.

Inside
you can smell the dirt on the windows,
you can breathe it,
consume it.
Whether summer or winter,
it is hot.
Inside the train is hot,
and stuffy,
and you can smell the dirt on the windows.

You sit back,
but your neck and head are strained forward,
looking at the window.
Your elbow is wedged on the windowsill.
Your forearm and hand support your head,
which is facing down,
towards the dirty, stained and dusty floor,
but your eyes are looking up.
You’re too lazy to move.
No,
too miserable.

You look at the window,
not through it.
You don’t admit it
but you see no difference:
window and sky –
it’s all one.
As if the glass was stuck to the clouds.

It’s miserable outside.
It’s miserable inside,
and hot, and sticky.

You have such a sad, bad feeling.
It’s like the raindrops on the window,
but it’s acid,
and it drips down inside you.
It makes your insides heavy,
and aching.

What is it that’s hurting?
It drips down from your mind to your heart,
burning as it goes,
avoiding the big drop that is swelling in your throat.
From your heart it runs down into your soul.

You are not just sad.
Not grey and miserable,
like the weather…..
You are heartbroken.

The woman you love is behind you.
Not on the train,
not even at the station.
You had to pack your bags
and go.

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