The Storm

The hall is quiet. The air is still.

The storm has washed the floor.

You promised me a brand new sky,

And swore to close the door

❤️‍🩹

On every slam, every scream,

On every cutting word,

Until the silence felt so sweet...

The best I’d ever heard.

❤️‍🩹

But if a question leaves my lips,

A simple, quiet "why?"

Then I can see the weather change

Inside your shifting eyes.

❤️‍🩹

The heavy clouds come rolling in,

The "sorry" starts to fade,

And once again, I’m standing in

The mess that we have made.

❤️‍🩹

You look at me with cold contempt,

Like I’m a debt you owe...

Or just a stone inside your shoe

With nowhere else to go.

❤️‍🩹

I’m stupid for a single thought,

I’m nagging for a breath,

You choke the life from every day

And talk the love to death.

❤️‍🩹

The "bitch" comes spat across the room,

A sharp and hateful tone,

To remind me that I’m smaller now,

And you're not afraid to be alone.

❤️‍🩹

You take everything so personal,

My hearts in fight or flight,

You grab your keys and slam the door

Then disappear into the night.

❤️‍🩹

But morning brings the gentle hand,

The soft and sorry face,

To sweep the broken glass away

And put things back into place.

❤️‍🩹

"I’m sorry," falls like heavy rain,

"I won’t do it again,"

But I can feel the pattern slither

Beneath your very skin.

❤️‍🩹

It’s in the way you hold your breath,

In how you watch the clock,

The iron key is turning slow

Inside the heavy lock.

❤️‍🩹

It isn’t new, it isn’t strange,

The pattern has returned,

To sit among the cooling ash

Of everything you burned.