enough

I know the place
just above my eyes
where the pressure builds.
It fills to not-quite overflowing,
tears refusing to 
touch my skin.

And if the clouds clutched their raindrops,
refusing to release,
refusing
to let the parched and cracking earth
taste the sky-
what would it take?
What would it take for them to let go?

Because if they fell freely,
I would write poetry in the spaces between my words.
I would read myself into tragedies,
into words like melancholy,
and feel understood.

I would use that rain
to paint emptiness on canvases,
splatter sadness across the walls,
spill my insides into colors
and clouds
and earth
and everything between.

And if they fell freely,
I would block out the world
with music,
headphones turned up,
body full,
losing myself in the silences.

I would tuck myself into your arms
or maybe mine
and feel safe
and know I am meant to be there.

If they fell freely.

If they fell freely instead of leaving me
to balance between,
to balance at the edge
knowing that tipping requires me to push.

The clouds need a gust of wind.

And so if I fall
it will be because
I pushed
away from the sun.

If I fall
It will be because 
alone
I couldn’t feel enough.