It shook me.
Like the buzzing of an early morning alarm, I was awoken from my sleep.
Into reality, I was thrown, and into the mini-van, I was packed away.
I didn’t want to leave, but I left with my family
And, by the grace of God, a fourteen hour drive landed us safely in Georgia.
Georgia… Ah, Georgia.
It had been a while since my last visit, though every previous time was voluntary.
In Georgia, they cancel school over a little rain,
While the eye of the storm hovers its dreadful head over my home,
As if to see what it could devour.
But it didn’t.
It didn’t succeed.
It didn’t quench its thirst.
It couldn’t devour.
It barely left a mark on my home, but the mark on the community was much larger.
This was a wake-up call to that community to commune, to partake in its purpose.
It was a call to me to partake in mine.
My calling, like a dream from a deep sleep,
Was awoken… and
It shook me.

Label me a hurricane if it fits,
you think I trampled
on these hearts but they are nothing
but counterfeit;
there's no way to tame
a tempest you see,
you can't blame me for being a misfit.

from rain
should i turn into a storm?
howling like the wind
making noise
to get you to hear me?
more raindrops
more tears
to make you feel
drenched in remorse?
harsher and faster
much like a hurricane
to get you to see
how messed up i am?
when i'm strong
like the storm
would you love me more?

At midnight there's a freight train that passes through the neighbouring town; its loud enough shake the windows of our room and wake me. At 12:03 you roll over, kiss the blade of my shoulder and pull me closer into your embrace. You are sleeping-  silent and easy. My eyes are wide, watching the shadows on the walls as the cars drive by, putting the thought of leaving on my mind but keeping me in the warmth of our sheets until I can figure out how to slip out from under your arm. It feels so natural resting there below my rib cage just above my belly button, so i'm asking myself why I'm so urged to escape the one place that feels familiar; the one place that feels warm. It's 12:07 and the wind chimes start singing outside our window, giving signal of the cold winter breeze that would chill me to the bone if I decide that tonight's the night I leave you. It always works this way, running away from heartache before it happens; dodging the pain before I feel it on this body that you worship. Trying to forget about the nights when I'd ask you why you do this and your response always being, "you're worth it". I've been left too many times to believe it's true so now it's my turn to walk out that door before you do and even though my hands are shaking beneath you, my heart is whispering that the time is now. I wish you could wake up and beg me to stay somehow, but your eyes are sealed and a part of me knows how you would feel if you woke to me shutting the door ever so quietly the way I'm used to.
Love isn't enough to keep me satisfied- it used to be when I was young and naive but my heart's been broken too many times by guys who've watched me helplessly cry yet sat there and denied that they're even hurting me. It's a road that I'm used to walking down. The sidewalks beginning to know the sound of me dragging my feet at a quarter past twelve while the moons getting ready to hear me yell "why am I ******* like this?". I wish I wasn't like this. But God put me together like a puzzle and I think he lost a piece during the process. I don't know if I have a purpose, and I don't know in which God I believe. But I've spent my whole life running- trying to find someone who feels like the missing part of me. It's 12:23. You weren't the missing part of me. I'll never get the chance to apologize and at 6:41 the sun will rise but I'm begging you baby please don't cry when you don't see me laying beside you. People like me are hurricanes and we come around and bring too much pain and trust me sometimes I feel insane for always running away from from soft kisses and a safe place. But even bomb shelters get destroyed. And maybe love isn't meant for someone like me, maybe I'm meant to live with this void in my chest ; I haven't figured it out yet. Just make the bed like you always do, then go out and find yourself someone who loves you in all the ways I didn't know how. A girl with pretty eyes and a soft voice who is strawberry sweet and recognizes that despite it all, your heart is still soft and you will still need love when the sun rises.

I want to hold the back of your head,

and pull your mouth into mine.
I taste you.
I taste you.

Baby, your soothing lips taste of bitter coffee and mint.
Your beard tickles my face.
I smile against your mouth,
I move to the tender hollow of your neck,
and amidst the sweet cosset of my lips,
I whisper,
“We can't stay long.”

Our longing held captive by a relentless hurricane.

Yet, we’ll find our way.

I'll see you soon in the eye of the storm.

But if each moment with you is a droplet of rain,
I want a hurricane.

You hear about me,
you wait for me,
you prepare for me below,
while I sit silently and brew in the heavens above.
Innocently I start as scattered clouds smudged across the sky,
as I calmly exhale over the land.
But with each breath I fill up with frustration.
Frustration turns to anger,
anger becomes rage,
and before you know it a tantrum is born.
I batter,
I consume,
I cough out my rage.
I strip your trees bare and scream at your cat,
howling with laughter at the mess I have made.
I charge through the streets
stealing life to strengthen my own.
Tears are washed away with salted rain
you think your pain
will make me stop?
Bodies of trees lie across the roads,
hollow shells of used-to-be homes
poke their heads from the water,
scared to see the damage I have caused.
Exhaling once more I return to the sky
where I will sit and sulk
but never die.

I went out for some air
As Ophelia's winds ripped Cavan
With whips and cracks,
Swaying wires til they met like Gothic lips
Whistling a lilting melody
In a wave winding along the Carrick Road.
They wailed as banshees,
Warning men with crosses,
Women in seclusion,
Screeching in their ears,
The fairies left their hillocks,
The cairns are empty vaults;
Ophelia drowned out prayers that night,
And slipped for Scotland's shore.

the rain hits the side of my window pane
the beats of my heart begin to change
so in darkness comes to light
of what i might face
perhaps some might call it a hurricane
mixed emotions
of thoughts
gentle water turns quickly into oceans
never knowing what may be brought
the wind briefly alters
& than comes to a halt
when will it stop
so i glance out my window
looking over to the dark clouds
how much power they have
& i make a wish that my problems will drown
down to the drain
along with the pain
for i will no longer fear
the deep dark hurricane