Friday, November 28, 2014

.Hurricane.


What's the use in wanting? I talk too much, feel too much, am too much.

And no one stays longer than a season for when my weather turns cold and ugly they depart for sunnier places where flowers always bloom, forgetting that the cold won't last forever.

Forgetting or not caring, but I can blind you with the shining of my soul if you just wait for the spark; as fast as the storm in me rolls in, the clouds part.

Make the best of my rainy days, for nothing grows without rain. Dance in my puddles, let me sing you to sleep.

Every paradise sees a hurricane.

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