Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jul 2015
Cyclonic is your kind of adjective;
I suppose I was born to love storms
like you.

I could never really keep my hands to
myself. Nor my mouth. Or my words.

I love you like hurricanes love destruction
and mornings love reckoning.
My life is a series of misfortunes disguised as experience.
rained-on parade
Written by
rained-on parade  Sheffield, England
(Sheffield, England)   
  5.6k
       Azaria, ---, rain, ---, RA and 22 others
Please log in to view and add comments on poems