out of the storm
the thunder
the ache
something

beats down upon us
these circular demons
tiny bullets made of ice

we call them
lies
deceit
regret

they crash into the surface
of all we know as solid
real
tangible

making dent
after dent
after dent
after dent
running our fingers over the pock marks
each remembrance brings
a pain
we thought we had forgotten

then we crack
a sliver so fine we don't even
feel it at first
but it crawls its way
towards the very core
of our soul
of all we know as us

the glass shatters
we break
pieces of you
pieces of me
separate into oblivion

the storm
in our heads

the thunder
in our hearts

the ache
we call the truth

is all there ever was

08/08/2011

Author's Note: for you

Posted on 08/09/2011
Copyright © 2026 Shonda Chrissonberry