Outside it’s still;
A storm’s just passed.
My new favorite smell lingers in the air:
Decaying leaves and dewdrops replace your cologne.
I could relate the storm to my life lately,
Saying trees with cracked limbs fared far better than my heart
Or how the thunderous wrath always ends unceremoniously,
But I won't because that’s too cliche.
I never used to think that when it rained the Earth was crying,
But now I like that sentiment.
As if the Earth could feel pain.
What would it cry about?
Oil spilling up through cracked rocks
A slippery and suffocating human accident,
Miners carving out shafts and displacing the stone within,
Smothering forests and wildlife for new parking lots, maybe,
But never over something as insignificant as a breakup.
Though nothing will stop me from imagining
That the Earth weeps solely for me
And the loss of my first true love.