Reflections

they slip and slide. some stick on, like they have invisible glue underneath their belly. new raindrops emerge and huddle together seeking protection from the threatening cold. how many tears does the sky have to shed?

yesterday i lay in the middle of the living room whimpering. my body wrecked. how many tears do i have to spare?

heavy gray clouds choke the tall building. bare trees sway as if to say, enough stop raining on me. raindrops collect in a frenzy on the windowpane. and, as if to spite their call for respite, the clouds weep with renewed strength. why the murky cruelty?

today, i caressed the knife by my bed. i imagined the tram banging into my body with no afterthought. oops. why the vindictive hold of life?