Letting Go

There was no thunder
And there was no rain
It wasn’t that movie-ish,
Dramatic pain.

But you made it a film.
You took the shovel
And dug up the ground
To bury your love,

To bury your soul.

While your eyes rained,
And your cries thundered,
Your breathing blew the dust,
On top of your dreams

And they were buried within -
Within a place
Where they die and decay
While you go on with life

With a hollow pace.

Originally Published in Us Magazine of The News (God knows when)