we are looking at the 4th year of her being dead...
i have no plans on acting on this but it's raining out...
i cant see very well through all the tears and i have to say i no longer wish to be here...
to be honest, the rain is the hardest thing to deal with...
when we were young we would make love to the rhythm of the raining nights...
through the crashing of the thunderstorms or the gentle patter of spring rains...
as we grew older we would lay in bed and hold each other, trying to merge our flesh into one person as the water fell, sighing and relaxing intertwined in each others flesh...
she smelled so good, she fit me...
the night she died it began to rain as i left the hospital and got in my car, texting or calling those who needed to know of her passing...
when i got back to our house, i stripped naked and stood in the backyard letting the rain wash away what it could, baptizing me into the life i am forced to endure...
the day i had to pick up her shes, it rained...
the day i put her ashes along with my beloved sons ashes on a new jersey beach, it rained...
i would give everything i own and more to fall asleep one last time, to never wake up in this nightmarish hell scape known as life...
i used to love the rain...
i just need to be free of it and all it represents...
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