To write of love
Is to be naked
To be seen

To be open
And vulnerable
It is terrifying

Like the rage
Of a thousand winds
My mind spins
To and fro again

Similar to the wind
The mess inside my head
Remains invisible
Yet violent

Sometimes I wonder why
We have warnings
For tornadoes in the sky
But not a glance
Towards the hurricanes
That dwell inside

But when I picked up a pen
I began to wonder again

I thought of all the wreckage both leave behind
And realised the reason why

A tornado in the sky
Will leave wreckage for both you and I

A tornado in my mind
Will leave wreckage that only I will find

So while I pick up the mess of a thousand men
I will also pick up my pen.

Wrap your arms around me
Let’s trade you say
A thousand kisses
For a thousand burns

Let’s dance you say
Instead I bow
I flail, fall and pray
Please, please, oh please

Wake up.
The flames no longer tickle
You no longer want to dance or play
The burns singe my skin, dark and brittle

Check mate.
It’s over.
You’ve won.
You always do.

I never wanted to hurt you.
I’m.
So.
Sorry.

The soft glow of a lamp
Carved from the earth
Reminds me
Of the warmth
You used to show me

From your tight, loving hugs
That whispered
Stay here
You’re safe here

To your light forehead kisses
That sung
I love you
I care about you

I am now
Left cold
Reaching for a head that is not there

I am now
Left with a lamp
A reminder of you