i hear myself best when I stand in a rainstorm,

that pours over and out of me.

there are no roofs here. no where to go.

or hide. or stay dry. it’s just,

the outside. and I can talk and talk.

I don’t even whisper. I just speak.

“finally.”

I can’t tell if there are a million things left to talk to about –

and I just don’t know them.

or if we’re trying to come up with something,

anything. to make socializing and cocktailing,

worth it?

I didn’t know anything about the Berlin Wall,

until I had to drink at a fancy party with rich people.

still don’t know anything about it – faked listening.

I pretended to hear, pretended to care, pretended to be there.

but I didn’t have anything to say, so I just asked,