and the rain fell;
as a warm shower of tears
mixed with the
frozen salt streams
that stretched taught
upon my cameo cheeks
and I was grateful then
for the droplets
as I had been so immersed
in grief
that I hadn't noticed
the need of a hankie
or that my meaningless mascara
had left its tell-tale
brown gravy streaks
zigzagged across my face
nor had I heard
the distant chorus
offering condolences
or felt warm hugs
upon my icy torso
so catatonic was I
to my surroundings
that all I felt was
oozing blood
scraping through the
tiny pores of my heart
with its measure
of hammer and nails
refusing to pierce
the slippery red holes
wide enough
so that I might bleed out
my own rueful death.
Instead
there was nothing more
than the agonizing
adrenaline surges
resounding in my ears
waiting, waiting, waiting
for my TNT heart to explode
before the audience of flowers
withered around the casket.