Thunder

Thunder

By Allie Marie

Your fingertips clench against your fists

so hard I’d think they’d nearly break.

To retain control, one must compose

a thunderous rage or so you seem to say.

 

The skies fall in.

I won’t play your victim.

I won’t take your clouded lies

as fact and truth.

 

I cannot think

your voice is tight

beckoning through the hallow night.

Little whispers

in my head

you become my closest friend.

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