The Art of Fear

The rain was a silent accomplice

taking a seat next to me to tell me about how I let you down

because I did

With headlights in the periphery

I couldn't figure out what I did wrong

or at what point, I made you numb---

I let it all wash over me

and it filled up my nostrils until I couldn't breathe

and I was sitting on a bench without an umbrella

I remembered your umbrella

it was black

and it meant you understood all of this

but I didn't want to give it back

not now---

not ever