When Stars Rain
She's standing where the city breathes out loneliness in neon sighs,
her umbrella blooming with fallen stars—the kind that used to live
in her grandmother's stories, in the summers before she learned
that some doors close and stay closed, that rain can taste like goodbye.
The buildings rise like old friends who don't recognize her anymore,
their windows blinking yellow promises she can't quite believe,
and the puddles at her feet hold whole galaxies she's afraid to step through.
Somewhere a radio plays a song she knew by heart once,
before hearts learned to hurt this beautifully, this quietly,
before she became a silhouette holding an umbrella against the past,
catching stars that fall like the rain, like the tears, like all the things
she's tried so hard not to remember on nights like this—
when the city shimmers with what-was and what-might-have-been,
and she stands perfectly still, letting the universe wash over her,
baptism and drowning all at once.
-Artwork created in Photoshop and additional image-painting programs
-Poetry written by me
-both copyright to ©Stacy Stephens