Falls On Me

It rained today. It fell in huge droplets, like liquid bombs. The hot pavement hissed and steamed, and the air was so thick with humidity I swore I could drink it if I wanted to. But I didn't. Not this air. Not today. This air didn't quench; it drowned. I could feel it in my lungs as I gasped each breath. Left foot, right foot, almost there, almost home. The heavy sky bore down as I walked, then crawled. Key in the lock. Open door. Safe. For now.