the color of a bruise

the color of a bruise

it was that day,
the day his mother left
the day a cloud hung over the house
the color of a bruise
and his tears stopped
never to freely flow like the rain

so carefree the rain
seemed, able to fall on any day
free to stop
whenever it pleased, when there were no more drops left
to fall and bruise
the parch land that surrounded the house

his father passed his days in that house
and caused his sister's tears to flow, like the rain
each tear was in lament of a bruise
sent from that day
when their mother had left
unable to be stopped

the day she said goodbye his love stopped
and the house
became a broken place with only sorrow left
a drought of love, praying for rain
though there seemed to be none, as if it had been greedily drunken on that day
so the cuts and bruises of their hearts went unwashed, until their very soul was bruised
and their father's rage never stopped
they waited for the day
when their house
could be washed clean by the rain
until only puddles of love were left

while heartbreak was left
behind, discarded like a bandage that had covered a now healed bruise
a day when the boy could once agaiin cry tears of rain
pouring out his sorrow that had finally stopped
mending the broken house
the boy and girl awaited this day

the day when all that had left came back, and stopped their sorrow
and soothed their bruised hearts, grown stunted in the stagnant house
the rain would fall, cleansing on that long awaited day