eshajori

She was the sky,
Whatever it meant to be free, to be falling.
He saw the sun and the moon she was to be. He saw the birds, fly-passing her and smiling. He saw the beauty of the rain in her; he felt the dizzy feeling you get when the rain drops hit the ground.

Little did he know about the storms she turned into; the destroying creature she transformed. The tornados inside her brain and the typhoons inside her heart.

The extinguishing kind of hurricanes.

***

The sea was always stormy, even though nobody knew. Where the sky saw him, she looked at him; it was always stormy, demolishing. She, the sky, would look at him, the sea, like a mirror of her inner demons.

Then she would see the people, who looked at him and being happy for a second. Getting mesmorised, being unable to think about their little problems even for a minute. She wouldn't understand, of course. She would only see that dark, deep and aggressive part. And she would be terrified of that part so much that she could not even get closer to the sea.

Ah, if only she have seen the part where the sea met the sand; the waves met the humankind. If only she had not been this ill with her self-fear; so that she would look lovely at him as much as he did at her.