How does it feel, to have a changing weather for a lover?
When it's a beautiful summer day, you see the bees jumping from flower to flower. The sun illuminates the land, sending down warm kisses to her hair.
You take a deep breath. The air genly caressing your face smells of the most beautiful flowers, as if they were hand-picked for your taste.
Everything seems so peaceful, unreal levels of peace and love within you.
And then the storm comes, chilling you to the bone. Scaring you to the very center of your being. The wind swirls amd gushes, making whistling sounds. And the raindrops you feel on your skin are drops no more.
Lightning hits the trees, there's nowhere to hide now.
And just moments ago, peace and love flourished.
But both of these moments are beautiful.
A summers storm, dashimg and screaming.
Not warmed up
But only few will find beauty
In the storm above a flower-filled land.
So won't you come to terms
With the fact that
This scenery occupies my heart?
Every time you utter that 3 worded sentence
And your hand cups my cheek
My world flourishes and peace is within me
But with every word left unsaid, or remark, my eyes grow heavy and the sky falls on me. It seems like every critique I get makes me feel more and more worthless instead of inspiring change, but that's a topic for another day.
The tears I swallow are the calm before the storm.
And then it just takes a tick.
Just a sound.
For someone to call out my name
Or to ask if I'm fine.
And I will cry, let those tears rain down on my face like the loudest storm I've felt in me.
My eyes widen
My voice grows quiet
My arms begin to shake
And just as if I was in a field caught in the middle of rain, I try to find a place to hide.
Hiding from my own internal cracking, seeking comfort in your arms and praying to God and the angels and everything and everyone one could pray to that for once in my life someone will say these feelings are valid.
The sun I give out is praised
Yet the storm isn't
But we need storm to water all the flowers grown under the sun, do we not?
So next time you see me
Crying in public
Ask yourself if shaming helps this storm in me? I water the flowers growing in my garden.
Maybe my garden is healthier than yours
Because a good rain can make all the difference in the world
As long as my love can be my shelter.
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