That’s Why I’m Here

Sometimes, I dip my fingers into the water near my home, and I let my tears roll down creating ripples in the once still water.

Romantics like to come

rest beneath me.

They like to sigh and lament for the one who does not love them back.

I listen.

I always listen.

because how can you not

when these folks are right under nose?

All jokes aside,

I listen

because at the very least

they did not lament alone.

They did not sigh and find themselves swimming in their own tears for nothing.

They will never know

that when they leave,

I sigh for them.

I let my tears for them

roll down my arms,

ripple the once still water.

Letting go of their excess sadness

So that one day

Those tears will

evaporate to the sky.

Continuing the cycle of expression

until the sky grows heavy,

and rains down the sadness

that was once so big

for one small romantic’s broken heart.

The rains fall and the romantics of the world look at the rain and find it fitting. At least today they won’t have to pretend to be chipper.

My name is my mission.

My silhouette a cry for those that will wail under the dome of my eyes.

And my message is clear:

come to me when you are aching

and I will listen.

I will always listen.