but at least there are storms.

it’s raining
after so long baked
under the merciless
gaze of summer
the accumulated
filth runs down
the swollen gutters
a sluice in shades
of forgotten dream

i stand in the storm
soaked through
praying the rains
could purify whatever
ancient curse rattles
through my windswept soul

bonedeep sorrows in
a flurry of sodden denials
i am condemned by
inherited scars
doom dripdripdrips down
poisoning the wishing well
tarnishing the coins
as tomorrow contemplates
the dingy drudgery
unphasedunfazedunphrased
in a suicidal malaise

5 thoughts on “but at least there are storms.

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