Evaporating

Until now the dust has choked
the stillness of the summer.
It's burned the eyes of countless people
seeking freedom from the air.
The moments have bled freely and
have dried even faster,
evaporating,
yet scarring with lasting impressions.

Two nights ago the headlock broke
and the skies began to weep
with drops of life.
The irony.

You stood under the canopy without ever
glancing up from the monotony of chaos.
I stood in the rain
watching with half-closed eyes.
Twenty feet and two car door slams,
then somber confusion
disguised behind an upbeat song.
The waters lost their power after a time
and drizzled sadly over us,
resting upon the windshield wipers
that never seemed properly timed.

A thin layer of mist clung to the road ahead
and stabbed at my wet skin.
Bursts of cold air sent shivers down my spine
yet you know I would never
keep you from what you needed.
The fog on the road echoed the uncertainty
of my heart,
but still I could not pause to notice
the fact that you only saw my profile
under a faint streetlight.

I opened my heart earlier that day in the sunshine.
I said a prayerful hello and goodbye.
You missed your time to see me.

The mist grows and rises,
evaporating.

Tonight the rains continue to smother the dust.
You play those games and smile,
convincing yourself that spoken words
will be enough to slice through my emotions.
Tumultuous habits don't die easily.
As I sit on the floor counting out
the week's remainder,
a hollowness descends within me.
It all seemed so simple at the start,
before the wars of summer.

The dust shall battle the mist,
leaving me frozen in the rain.