I love thunderstorms
The lightning flashing
The thunder roaring
It's a rhythm that lulls me to sleep
Rather than the sobbing into my pillow.
Thunderstorms rage outside my window
Lightning blinks at it watches me cry
If I drowned in the rain, no one would know
Amidst the chaos nobody would notice me die
Rewrite of the last two lines from a poem I wrote a few years ago..
I was Never afraid of thunderstorms
I walked right into them
I walked all over them
I guess I was lucky , “never been hit.”
Until I got my first strike and every bit
Of my beautiful mind and beguiling smiles
Turned into nothing but dust and ashes.
I guess I was wrong back then about the crashes
For Now I wish the storms shall pass
And hope the storms won’t last.
But who am I fooling ?
They shall surely last
And they shall never pass.
my tongue reaches to catch the
the lightning's flash
causes me to flinch in surprise
then an after boom!
A squeak of fear
makes my hair rise up
maybe inside is a
a much better place to be
in a thunderstorm
daily thunderstorms sweep Georgia - I LOVE them
thunder storms and
soft rain on
a tuesday afternoon
reminds me of you
Slithering sparks slicing the darkness in two, it makes me shiver.
Off in the distance is another storm I'll have to weather,
but it's okay I'm a striver.
Because if I catch even a glimpse of that beauty,
I can stand though even the strongest storms.
footprints traced in sandy waters
bloomed in thorns
in salty air
Her spirit twinkled
of northern lights
flirting with a million acres
of honeydew blossoms
that he adored
Thunderstorms and grim sky
Trickling water, witch's high
Patch my heart up, like a lullaby.
Wrote this during a thunderstorm, and idk why, but thunderstorms and rainy nights are so comfy and soothing.
You had this way of smoking your cigarette
This look when inhaling the smoke into your lungs
And those nails always perfect
You had this way of brushing your hair
This shape of your body in the mirror
And this choice of red lipstick
You had this ability of
Making me feel safe with your beautiful and dark eyes
Not a single word was needed
You had this way of saying my name
It gave me those unforgettable chills
It was all about you
You had this smile on your face
And this confidence when talking about love
It was as beautiful as nature in spring
You had this shameless way of crying
Even your tears were art
It was beautiful and painful at the same time
You had this way of making love in the shower
This desire to grow old in your arms
It's hard to explain
You were my religion
And when I look up to the sky now
I still see those thunderstorms beyond the hills
Rain poured all night until sky revealed a chilled morning
notably warmer than winter's frost- jacket weather at most.
The sun rose ever higher, blinding white and warming
land, locals, and floaters alike, long frozen to the bone.
The smell of grass' rapid rush to shape light to energy fuses
with the air still heavy and thick with the weight of the lake.
Yet, evening spirals in orange to pink to purple until towering
shadows overhang, plunging the streets into early midnight.
Relentlessly the concrete canopy floods every surface, hail batters,
bass rumbles follow with illumination of unadulterated power.
It unmistakably feels like a home renounced to a deceived body,
with it rears fears of past: confinement, subjugation, mistreatment,
but it is not home.
I am home now. It doesn't matter who that upsets.