A Dialect of Rain

my speech flows like raindrops,
sliding from the height of the sky.
down like the curve of a cheek.
down six feet deep.
pitter-patter dialect
where eloquence is shaped by rain.
a language made of pain.
every syllable is synonymous to
pins and needles,
cumulonimbus clouds and its byproducts.
the water exchange:
speech to ears in rain that fears
discussion of sentiments.
a language made to be censored.
every syllable banned from talk.
my speech flows like raindrops,
but i have taught myself to
shut the windows so that the storm
doesn’t ruin the interior
because rain doesn't like indoors.
rain doesn’t belong indoors.