i wish you’d look me in the eyes
don't even try to hide your lies
i see a storm brewing in our darkening sky

and out of your mouth
spews nothing but hate
if only we'd changed
but now it’s too late

am i delusioned?
am i losing you?
you were faking all along
i know that you knew
quit blaming me when you’re just as guilty too

you rear your head, the thunder claps
time to strike a pose, you've won the match

I was to supposed to write of the Thunderstorm.
High winds. Pouring rain.
Uprooted trees. Burning wood.
A terribly terrific piece.
But, I let the words float on.
Drowning in a sea of unwritten dreams.

I was supposed to write of the Dancing Flame.
Rocking embers. Glowing rhythm.
Sweet cinder. Smoking desires.
A horrifyingly honest part.
But, I let the words smolder into ash.
Going down in an arsonist's dream.

But mania, oh mania.
Writing everything about nothing.
But me, oh me.
Writing nothing about anything.

I was supposed to write,
But didn't.

it's just the empty thunderbolts, my darling
they wouldn't dare ruin our evening.

all the energy they would've held surrounds us now.
all their spark is between our fingertips, their fires in our heart,
the light in our eyes.

they're just the empty thunderbolts, my darling
and the thunder a proclamation of my love.

Your brazen silence became roaring
And my thunderous thoughts became silent
Quietly dripping upon a blank canvas