'The calm after the storm' has new meaning to it.

The calm is the pouring rain at 2am.
It beats up the roof for being in it's way.
Slapping it repeatedly with such a force that I can hear it from inside.
It floods the streets.
And clears the sky of grey clouds.

The storm is you.

You.

With your words.
Repeatedly beating my emotions to the ground.
Slapping the happiness from my face.
My conscience doesn't understand what it did wrong.
It sits inside of me only wanting,
waiting to please.

It seeks to only please you.

Becoming flooded with want of nothing else.
Every other emotion is shoved away, but the grey stays.

Sadly, it hangs over my head like the now dispersed rain clouds.
This one never leaves though.
Every raindrop filled with your voice.
They pelt me.
Never allowing me to become dry.

I thought my love was enough.
Maybe I was wrong.

Comfort, for many, is found at home.
Walking into the warmth from the frozen air outside.

This house, it's consumed in ice.
It's where the Ice Queen lives.
Refusing warmth for her numb subjects.

This ice palace has never been a home.
Unsustainable for the warmth we crave.
Desperate for the Ice Queen to release us from her hold.
But no difference can be made.
The Ice Queen likes to have her way.

As days pass on,
the subjects become frozen.
Unable to feel.
Ice crystals envelop our hearts.
Until it fractures.
This palace will never thaw.
This is what the Ice Queen feared.

She is alone...
with only the cold to keep her company.

You'd think it silly.
But your opinion doesn't matter really.
As kiddies shout with glee,
from this place I wish to do nothing but flee.
The sun is shining bright.
It reflects off the water.
As I stare down with spite.
Happily splashing around,
they beg me to come have fun.
Not realizing I'd rather run.

I've met many challenges.
They think it's fun to trip me in life.
Laughing and gloating as they float away firmly planted on my back I stay.
A shadow crosses my face.
Shutting my eyes tighter, I prepare for another failure.
To my surprise, this challenge helps me to my feet.
Gently, it tells me, with kind eyes,
"you've got this."

Happiness spreads.
Her little light creates a warmth.
It fills my heart.
Her hand is enclosed in mine.
I squeeze tightly, to convey my love.
Her mind though, couldn't comprehend the weight of this action.

When she's sad,
her beautiful blue eyes become a little more grey.
I wish to never see her eyes this way again.
Vowing to spend my days with my little blonde girl.

It's curious to think how God made me.

For instance, unable to see.

Without tiny pieces of glass.
I mistake a slithery scaly stick,
for a snake in the grass.

While I sit, I hear giggles.
Embarrassed, I advert my eyes to the squiggles,
on the white lined pages in front of me.

I struggle to read them.
Finding mismatched words such as, "broplens" and "selvc".
Sighing, I place oval framed glasses over my eyes.
It's my turn to laugh as I look to the sky.
I read the page again, noticing I have "problems" of my own I need to "solve".

Instead, I lay down in the prickly grass,
appreciating God for the way He made me out to be.