Shatter

Rain, like glass can either shatter you, or help you glide

Like the tear’s upon her face, as he tried to say goodbye.

There is a friendship between rain and tears.

The sky is crying for us sometimes.

He died on a Tuesday, why not a Sunday, or a Monday

She cried for him each and every day, though he no longer could be saved.

Not out loud. There were no tears stinging her cheeks. They were within, somewhat of a secret.

Do you have a secret? Perhaps a vulnerable place that other’s are not allowed to see.

I have a vulnerable place. And you saw it, yesterday.

I think his comes out, when the moon is full. It’s only once in a while, but I feel it’s entirety glowing on my body, little gems, he makes me.

You’re vulnerability is beautiful, Do not fear it.

You're a gem, beautiful, cold, hard, and yet... fragile

It doesn't have to make sense. Poetry isn't science.