one of the first times we talked
there was a thunderstorm going on
at your end,
all the way on the other side of the world
(or so it seemed).
perhaps i should've taken it as a warning of sorts --
that i would become enthralled by you,
just as i am
by thunderstorms,
and that you, the storm itself,
would wreak beautiful havoc
upon all that i was
and change me forever.
i was oblivious:
unknowing of the fact that soon
i would be in the eye of the storm --
a ship being beaten down by your
catastrophic flashes of blinding lightning
and the roaring waves you would leave behind.
perhaps i should've taken it as a warning of sorts.
but i didn't.
i was blinded by the serenity
that so often comes before chaos.
the calm before the storm,
if you will.
but like i said,
i am enthralled by thunderstorms,
so maybe that is why,
even after the calm ended,
i still loved every second
of our twisted downpour
and didn't so much mind
the empty hull i'd become.
my darling --
you were the storm
and i was the ship
that slowly burned
with every strike of lightning.
(a.m.)
quickly positing this with horrible wifi hello. i also hate the ending of this poem but I'm too lazy to change it.
