Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Poetic T Feb 2020
She was like a storm
               with no rain...

Just a tornado of destructive vocabulary.


Destroying every excuse
                               that I ever gave.

I was never a flood, never a river
               of ill equipped reasons.

Sometimes I just slipped on my
              own excuses.

I was the goldfish in her bowl
             of life..

And I had the memory of,
                yes darling ill do that.

But I shut the door and her wind
       became a breeze that never

dried in my thoughts..

My memory was a goldfish
        out of water only interested

In breathing.

But no matter what,she'll never
rain down.she'll just dry me off
         and sometime I remember,

and kisses are rained down instead
      of huricane vocabulary..

— The End —