Rain Gone

for Jennie

like my love
she wanted to sing
trembling hands
from the pills
she left behind
diagnosis crazy
schizophrenic rain
the police found her
body this morning
in a room
in Georgia
in the place where the rain
gathers into a tunnel
and becomes a flood
in her own blood

the voices so loud
in cursing and moaning
she couldn’t even think of us
who would still be there
after she had escaped the pressure
the rain coming down
she couldn’t
we tried so many ways
but there are forces louder than love
there are demons
that only the sharpest break can still

there are crazy chemicals
in our brains
these chemicals
they diminish us
they don’t only
take from our selves our lives
but from those who love us
those whose fate
and bodies
and blood are
a valve
that never closes
no matter how many
and everything else
that dissolves into the past
and doesn’t

there is no real
between them
between us
between the blow
and when the pain stops
between everything
that has been taken from us
and what we still have

between the moment she is okay
and her last breath
diagnosis suicide
to face it
any more of it

like my love
and hers
and the rain that came down
for so long
and now
is gone

  1. Maddie says:

    What a thoughtful tribute to Jennie, who I never met but whose pain reaches me through stories I have heard and through this poem. There are those who our love can never reach, at least in deep enough ways.