The Storm

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I used to call you the calm within my storm,
but I was wrong and the truth was revealed.
You were the storm
and now you are the lightning
that disrupts my night sky,
keeping me up at night with anger and frustration
of the regret of ever letting you in.

So full of hated and sorrow,
you leave me in ruins and disappointment.
Rain pours down the window
like the tears that roll down my cheeks.
And I whimper and sob like the thunder
that shakes the ground I walk on.

Pour on me like the a vicious hurricane.
Leave me drenched in the eerie darkness.
Walk away like you do best,
leaving me to drown in complete misery
as a vibrant sunset fills up your sky.
the sunset I created.

On the darkest of nights, I am the moon.
During the deadliest of storms, I am the thunder.
And this is my last poem dedicated towards you
because now I know why storms are named after people.

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