She is a storm.
Droplets splashing, falling, crashing
With each billowing breath
Of her swirling rage.
Beneath her delicate skin,
Dark currents flood her,
Mind, awash in fury.
Bones crackling, blood boiling.
Fitful waves rumble within,
Begging for release. But,
Writhing limbs inside her,
Plead for gentle silence.
Still, her anger churns.
It demands attention.
Surging against its confines;
Banging at its walls.
It crests over the cusp,
Bathing the world in her wrath.
She is a storm
And she demands some damn attention.
YOU ARE READING
Poetry & Short Stories
PoetryI'm bad at poetry... but I love it. So enjoy my poetry and I hope you can find some meaning in it😌 Also short stories are fun :))
