Poems.

Storms.

I don't like storms.

It had been fine all day,
and then,
right when I'm about to fall asleep,
it starts to pour.

The cracks of lightening are so bright,
that I could see my neighbors house down the street.
(Safely observing from my window)

And the thunder could wake people up who are twelve miles away from the storm.

Storms make me feel emotional,
vulnerable-
they make me feel like a little kid again.

Since I needed comfort,
I grabbed a stuffed animal that my best friend gave me,
and another that the boy I'm in love with got me.

I remember the day the boy that I'm in love with got the stuffed pikachu.
It was easily over a year ago.

Now,
looking at it,
all I want is for him to be here next to me.

I want to wrap myself around him and feel protected from this storm.

I want to play with the hem of his shirt
until he falls asleep,
I want to cling on to him
until I can't hear the rain
or thunder anymore.

I don't like storms.