me + life: A Poem

So we all know that I'm pretty dramatic when it comes to mushy and romantic anythings. Right? Well feast your eyes upon this! I was organizing a box filled with random papers from way back before the "I love Scott" days. Dare I say I was slightly cheesy and way too infatuated with Gothic romance? I'm pretty sure I was inspired by "Wuthering Heights" when I wrote this in high school. Not in class, mind you, just wrote it one dark and thunderous afternoon as I daydreamed about my love. hahaha. Oh how I remember those hopeless romantic days. Here is the poem for reading pleasure. Word. For. Word.

A Poem by Cristine Cawley

The drumming on my window

lulls the silence kept.

It's patter upon the pane

enthralls my mind and heart unslept.

It does not cease,

I hope it never will

as I am snatched from slumber,

drawn to my windowsill.

My nose pressed to the glass

causes the fall to increase.

My heart synchronized

with the downpour unleashed.

It beckons, it calls.

It's song does allure.

Should I venture and risk?

I shiver unsure.

The icy chill of death

is now upon the pane,

though the abstinence from it

causes acute pain.

Harder it beats,

Louder it calls.

I should harden my heart,

my soul cries cries above it all.

But my heart is untamed,

my heart is unruly.

It is silently outspoken,

never loved so truly.

This window with its panes

stands as a barrier.

It shuns me from love,

Death comes of this carrier.

But no, I won't stand with you window

not for long.

Not a moment or even two

it it to the rain that I belong.

My heart is his.

He knows it well.

In his cold arms

will I forever dwell.

His home is the night.

His love is the rain.

It kisses my cheeks, my lips,

this withering terrain.

I've left the room.

I've escaped reality.

I've danced by the moon.

I've loved undoubtedly.

But no, he is here.

This is reality--is true.

The room and window are a lie.

This, this rain is you.

We glide across the pond,

walk among the swaying trees,

we run across the moors,

Your love forever, he decrees.

All is said by moonlight

in rhythm to the rain's lullaby.

My love then bids farewell,

the ultimate goodbye.

Unslept, unkept,

my heart returns

to that confining room.

My body coldly burns.

The icy death

has grasped me firm.

My soaked, chilled body

twists and churns.

I look to the window,

nay, beyond it, up high

to the billowing darkness

the midnight sky.

The stars twinkle dimly,

as lightning penetrates

the misty air

in which lies my fate.

My love joyously cries out

for I am newly found.

His tears kissing my lips

moistening them beneath the ground.

His felicity I feel too

as I cry from the dust.

To die for love

I knew I must.

Melodramatic? Over the top? Nah. I knew you wouldn't think so. But since the poem is out there now, I must admit something. Something I've never told another living soul. Here it goes: Whenever it storms, I have a love affair with rain. There I said it. It's all true.