Unspoken: The Anthology

Skeleton of a Storm

There's a chill in the air, and it falls over me,
It's written in stone like an old prophecy,
Control was once mine but I've lost it to the breeze.

I gather my bearings, finger to the wind,
The gale rocks the boat and begs me to give in,
To stay or to go are both unforgivable sins.

I batten down the hatches, losing grip of the wheel,
I'd rather be heavy than dead when I keel,
I'm a fair-weather girlfriend with too much to feel.

I look through the rain for an olive branch gift,
But the crow comes alone, hope gone with the mist,
I accept that here I'll draw my final breath and wish.

The eye of the storm can't meet mine; we're in tears,
Swore we wouldn't spiral; our lies led us here,
An island closed off and cloaked in our irrational fears.

I'm all at sea, all at once, all in my head,
I'm sure you'll move on, love somebody else,
I'm a cheap imitation gold trophy high on your shelf.

You'll reference my name with a roll of your eyes,
"Perfect storm in a teacup," You'll laugh while you lie,
If that's what I'll be, please leave me in your past to die.

They'll find us buried, dig us up in years to come,
They'll burn our old hearts, power the world on love,
"Skeleton of a storm," they'll call us when we're done.