the rain

you are the madness that splits me in half

wrapped in your arms to burn eternal

a monster you’ve become

infected in the visions of me poisoned

never again to fly… I shall lay dead

inside myself, thrashing in my death throws

the rails against your ear as I die

rain falling, flowing down this window

like your sweat against my skin

I rose that day some living dead

blank stares melted into the rain

your shovel leaning against the house

moving forward as if it ever happened

the smell of rain is deadly

the sound beneath the wheels

the body twitches inside me

nerves awakened

it knows, and yet refuses to tell me

the reason she lies dead

it was something that you said

the voice remains mute in memory

I can feel your breath against my ear

but no sound…no sound

it is too awful to hear.

The painting and poem are about domestic violence and partner rape