If it ever bloody rains

I never said I would, I only said I could
do what you wished, the subtle difference
should have raised a cautious flag;
maybe I bragged out loud, made it sound
as if it was intent, I never meant to make
it seem that way. So today I wear your
brittle animosity – just out of curiosity, how do
you manage that? It smacks me to the core, though
I’ve felt it thus before I’ve never managed yet
to live at ease with towering dread that’s leaden
in your steely, silent gaze. I suppose my only road
is plea of raw insanity, I’m bruised and battered
from a false belief that rain would fall and give relief,
that you would see the consequence of acting
out too soon. I should tilt the moon, I knew
you’d never fall for that. Alright, I’ll clean the goddamn
drains; God forbid, if it ever bloody rains I’ll take
the chance and also dance a naked jig.
© I.D. Carswell