The thunder woke me the same way you broke my heart. I sat up in bed, sweating, panic settling in The same way it welcomed me graciously when I realized I'd have to endure every single day without less than a single spoken word
You won't even look at me.
I used to fight for you, against you against the constant urges to look you directly in your gold threaded eyes and wonder why?
There was a day where I fought for your heart and won.
Nothing is the same. Now it's all detachment and denial from you, my thoughts, my anger from the amber glow that follows me radiating red a somewhat burning hell.
Every morning I see you go to your locker That's when I can still hear the thunder.
This is probably my most angry poem. I've dealt with awful anger issues and writing them down really helps me. I'm sorry that this one is such a downer.