When even the ceiling begins to weep

I don’t remember exactly what I was doing.

Exactly what made me stop.

I remember the storm sending shivers through the walls

The raucous thunder crashing through the skies like a marching band

And the rain

Oh the rain fell like teardrops to earth

Or onto my cheeks

And I could hear it

Yes? I could hear it

So close so close

Too close?

I staggered to the kitchen where the sound grew louder

Like a waterfall in my apartment

Like a roaring in my ears

My heart sank to my stomach

Empty from a lack of self worth

I turned to face the bathroom and in the doorway was a fountain

A stream of endless water pouring down like beaded curtains

Coating my already damaged floors with an increasing amount of water.

Depression is one thing,

But what do you do when even the ceilings begin to weep?

When even the skies break down?

I ran to get a bucket

A towel

A bowl

Anything to catch her tears

To save what home I had left

But I did nothing to catch my own

Let them fall to the floor like stones

Let them join the puddles already tapping at my toes

I wonder how I got here

Wonder which decision led me to this place

To this puddle

But who should I comfort?

Who should I soothe?

What feelings can I hide?

Which lies can I lie?

when even the ceilings begin to weep.

This poem is about: 
Me

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