The storm in his eyes reflects his heart; he is torn between loving her and protecting her from the storm of his past that has changed him in multiple ways. He is a storm.
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He wears his past like a cloak of hurricanes,
Get too close and he’ll sweep another girl off her feet;
Landing down her safely is another story.
He wasn’t always a storm,
But how else can he learn to hold himself up so that
Others can fear his temper and presence,
Without learning to be like the storm his father left behind.
It’s difficult to love himself, let alone love her;
So often he can feel whirlpools of pain underneath his skin,
Because skin is great for disguising boiling rage,
For hiding immeasurable bouts of silent rainfall.
So rare is it for him to want someone, a girl like you Abigail,
To step into the eye of the storm,
And peel away the past with your kind eyes.
Even a storm can feel grounded,
When your presence and temper,
Teaches him to be like the survivor you’ve become.
Even a storm can feel whole,
When you're the one to complete him.
YOU ARE READING
a little about love
Poetry"When he smiles, does it feel like your cheeks seem to have a mind of their own?" This is a personal collection of short poems about love and its up's and down's. Enjoy different perspectives of falling in love, including honest narrations from a c...
