Echoes; testing eardrum threshold 
Inward-out to shake things up
We're doing our best impressions
Me, the rain
Exhaling mischief as he penetrates each layer
Who am I?
Lebanon 
He awaits a laugh that never comes
I call him a Zionist cunt; the rain
Because everyone needs a title
A designation
A side
To belong
Heaven is real
Comprised of what's stuffed within your four-walled portion of the universe
Hell is what lies beyond 
Whoever would maim your's 
The clawmarks are much less visible from the perimeter 
Some spackle; a splash of paint
Back on the market for twice the rent
To sleep, to wake, to double-take
I counted mere seconds fore the rain begged forgiveness, and 
it thanked me without announcement 
Blame is guilt below a shared roof
But a couch is a time machine
Love returned and fading
It's nice to be needed
Quick turnaround