Storms soak the sky,
carrying me calmly along.
Mingling in the peace of my moment,
I pack your things and silently wait
for the pelting of drops on packed sand,
watching
love swim in your eyes like
two little gods fighting between eternity & my immorality.
Churning -
and folds of gray horizons approach in my mind
hand-written sentences disappear,
my peaceful moment with a stomp of a thunderclap vanishes…
I’m tired of being in hiding,
haunted by your confusing room –
where
storms
in the gods’ noiseless anger
collapse skies and futures into a heap of muddled me's,
where cornered on my doorstep
I realize my anger is faceless.
Descending,
wistfully pulling my life along,
furrowing dents in soft green grass where cold rain pounds
and bare feet find escape from a girls’ fury. 
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