I'm trying to find the right metaphor for the storm
but I ended up mumbling your name.
I can hear your bones break like thunder.
I can hear your cries against my windowpane,
thousands of miles from where you are.

You never thought I would stop running but I did.
I still remember the day when you beg my heart to settle down.
I still remember our little dance in the terrace,
two young people in the night,
experiencing forever in twelve hours.

You were the reason why I feel sad over the sound
of singing cicadas and heartbeats.
You were the reason why I stop leaving things unfinished.

Last night, a friend called and told me how you're doing.
I wonder if your scars still hurt when it's six degrees outside.
I want to cover your shoulder with words and moonlight until it softens.
Until you stop putting your hand on your chest at 2AM to keep it from howling.

I don't remember what type of storm you are anymore,
But I still remember you when it rains.

These words are for me,
For I'm the one who's hurting,
I'm just healing myself.

I’ve been trading my love for attention
and because I’ve been treating this like a transaction
maybe it’s not really love I’m giving.
Attention is still my drug of choice
and I need it
to fill this empty pit in my soul
called Neglect.
There is never enough to fill it,
never enough to soothe my nerves,
never enough to convince me
you really love me.

I don’t want to talk
Locked
Somewhere between my eyes and my trembling hands
I couldn’t hold the pencil
To tell you.

It fell from between my fingers
And I watched the chance to yell
Hit the ground
— my voice thins with your hair