All Things Gone Wrong

The Calm Before The Storm

Standing here by the shadows with ocean seemed almost safe. She spoke very little and during the moments she spoke, her words were well thought out.
"You a fan of poetry?" She asked, looking past me.
"Not exactly, i'm more into Trap songs you know, Travis Scott, Kodak black" i answered half screaming cause the music had gotten disturbingly loud.
"Oh...you're a complete jock head then" she retorted still not looking at me.
"How bout' you brunette?..you dig poetry?" I asked her.
"First of all Jock head, my name's 'ocean', not "brunette". Secondly you don't use "dig" and "poetry" in a sentence. And lastly, yes. I do love poetry". She replied rolling her eyes at me.
"Whatever smartass" I say, sticking out my tongue at her .which she doesn't seem pleased with as she smacked me hard across my shoulder.
"Ouch!!!!...for a girl you're pretty strong" i say with shock.
"Why thank you jock head , you're not as clueless as you look" she replied with a cocky smile.
"Whatever, what kind of poems do you even like?" I ask still rubbing the spot her man like arms had thoughtlessly hit.
"Every kind. From romance to sad to dark poems. Dark poems mostly" she said rather too excitedly.
"Oh cool, got any I could look at?" I ask acting like I was interested in some dumb poems.
"Sure thing" she says as she bends over and unties her leather knee boots and pulls up her ripped jeans revealing a 4 line writeup in italics.
"What does it say?" I ask. genuine curiosity taking over my unfazed expression.
"See for yourself" she gestures for me to read the write up tattooed on her ankle.
"The shadow of a peaceful wind takes form,
Caressing the dead skin of her still-born,
Rocking the body of her decomposed mother core to core,
A deadly downpour, because after the calm, comes the storm".

"Wow, that's deep. But what does it mean?" I ask still gaping at her ankle.

"Everything's quiet and calm, almost too peaceful. Everybody's happy and celebrating. But it's way more than that. Everything happening here, right now, is a cover up. Everyone's comfortably wearing a fake smile, putting up a facade to pass as unbothered and cool, but nothing is really as it seems. We're all broken one way or the other, seeking validation where it shouldn't really matter, unsatisfied with our lives so we fake it. I mean how bad can it get. We're empty inside, laughing like we haven't tasted tears before. But you see these walls??... They'll crash eventually, when we're all alone.
Her eyes seemed to convey a different kind of sadness that seemed to have a story of it's own.
The atmosphere had dropped and was almost choking so I had to do something to atleast lighten the mood.