A storm was brewing,
She felt it .
Every excruciating second of silence allowed for stewing,
Keeping her secrets to herself.
Locked away tightly,
Just assured the definitive.
A storm was coming.
Every storm cloud represented parts of her being,
Parts she'd rather keep hidden.
Her eyes felt heavy with unshead rain,
Hands trembling as if they themselves were shook by the impending pain.
Being strong was her facade.
And the threat of exposure caused the familiar tremor.
A storm was coming.
She shut her eyes tightly,
Wished it away.
Prayed and hoped,
The condensation would prolong its stay.
But when the pain evaporated so long ago,
Her fossilized secrets promised they would once again show.
A storm was coming.
You can't stop the imminent,
Or de-rail the primitive.
You can't bottle it up for too long,
Or kill what you don't think makes you seem strong.
When it gets to much,
It sets itself free.
A storm is coming.
Just you wait,
You'll see.
~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆
Hey beautiful souls!
Every now and then we all have our own little storms.
We get too angry or
we get too sad.
etc
We bottle it all up until we just snap,and inevitably, we experience our own little natural disasters in different ways.
That was the message behind my poem today.
I'm a huge bottler,I bottle stuff up without even meaning to and it can have some pretty nasty ways of rearing back up down the line.
So here's to all you bottlers who can relate ...🌼🍃
Thank you all for reading...❤
I'm seriously grateful for all your continuing support!
Please ,if you like my poems,click on that 🌟
I'm not doing this for the votes,but when I get votes...it is just a really special feeling....like hey,I'm doing something right😢💜
~AUE 💓
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Paper Heart Poetry
PoetryThey don't prepare you for these feelings when you're a kid. ●●● Pain in the shape of words because human emotion is a powerful source of inspiration. Revel in the contradictions. Swim in the salty depths of grief. Climb the mountains of sorrow. Re...
