Poetry

I figured.

(4-12-15)
The storm rolls in,
Over the hills and trees.
I sit at the table and listen,
As my heart begins sinking.
I put pen to paper,
And express my insides.
The thunder rumbles on,
And I have no place to hide.
I look at the clock,
That sits on the wall.
The hand ticks and ticks away,
I try to make sense if it all.
I figured that by now,
My feelings would be gone.
But as I sit here alone,
I know I couldn't be more wrong.
I figured I would hate you,
After the last time we spoke.
Trying to keep things suppressed,
Is like the funniest joke.
I stare outside,
Of the sunflower window.
I am not over you,
But I sure can pretend, though.
And now my heart is reaching up,
Squeezing tight around my throat.
I figured I would hate you,
After the last time we spoke.
I am waiting for the thunder,
The lightning wind and rain.
I am waiting for the day,
I can say I overcame...
This obstacle of you,
It's so hard to get by.
I look at the clock ticking,
And I kind of want to cry.
I figured I'd hate you,
After the last time we spoke.
But who knew that a simple thunderstorm,
Had the power to evoke...
Such madness within,
So hidden deep down.
That even for a while even I forgot,
That it was still lingering around.
I hear the rain pad down,
On the roof above my head,
And I look out of that
Sunflower window with dread.
My anger was the wood,
Of a fire being stoked.
Simmering ashes and ember,
Going up in smoke.
I figured id hate you,
After the last time we spoke.
I guess I figured wrong,
Can't seem to forget your smile.
Guess I was so wrong,
Guess I've been in denial.
The storm rolls in,
Over the hills.
And I taste the salty tears,
That have began to spill.
And on my words,
I begin to gag and choke.
I figured I'd hate you,
After the last time we spoke.

A.G.