rain is pretty sometimes

and i used to sit

at home gazing

at the pain and

wondering whether it was-

it was because of

the ol' pretty rain

staring back at me

through the other

direction

of my name

i was seventeen once

and i recall corsages and laughter

candy cane glitter and promises

lost a wrinkled tiny strain of

pain wrapped in composure gone

and mistakes already made

calling

out my name from the trash

can in the bathroom

of Le Cordon Bleu .