The storm

The way corruption is like a storm, how an individual's mind can be replicated to that of a storm as well as a rainbow.

And that was the saddest part 

There I was number 8 on your list

I only ranked 8th

What dragged me down?

Was it my hair? 

My eyes?

My thighs? 

Will I ever know?

The constant stream of thoughts parade my mind 

oh how you have corrupted my mind

I've adopted the way you think

The jokes you say, even the way you speak

How does this human shadow my own consciousness?

Will I ever regain my own thoughts? 

The reaction I have to him is identical to a storm

each lightning strike happens for a reason

each rain drop placed in it's own space

every hurricane circles a different area

his words hit me hard

his sorrows cut deep 

his outbursts cause me pain

but nothing compares to his affectionate ways 

its the calm after the storm, the rainbow that sheds light on the situation 

I've never been trapped in a storm before

not one like this at least

I hope I make it out this time

I want to see what colours the next rainbow will bring me. 

Red? Will his anger prevail?

Orange? Will his attraction to me grow?

Yellow? Will our childish ways continue?

Green? Will I grow envious of the girls ranked above me?

Blue? Will he grant more power of me?

Purple? Will my sadness bring the next storm? 

The combinations of my life will forever change

but nothing will prepare me for this boy,

the boy will take it all from me,

as does a hurricane to its victims.  

Reviews

[Akasha]

Good job! beautiful writing and metaphor.

[Anjali]

Nice! A bit too long but it is really good... I really liked this piece. Keep writing!