Word Rain

Words quiver on my lips, Threatening to fall in heaping drops, Like so much acid rain, Burning their way through your hair, your skull, Your clothes, your tired running shoes, Leaving you naked in the violent gaze Of streetlights, stars, Headlights passing by. Head bowed in prayer, or shame, or fear, You await those poison words— But they never escape. There is only the distant buzz of the city, The heaving of my chest, And your whispered, “Sorry, sorry, sorry, I’m so sorry,” Then heavy footsteps Fading away.