The Thunder Rolls

Blame it on the booze,

or the pills,

or the late night feels…

Blame it on the one that got away,

or the one who chose not to stay,

or the one that wasn’t actually ever the one, not even just a little bit.

Everything,

everyone,

acted as a filler, something that filled the void,

until you realized that the void was something that could never be filled by a person.

A mere mortal could not fill the emptiness that you couldn’t ever describe,

couldn’t even begin to describe.

The emptiness could only be filled, as you dove deeper and deeper into the Word,

and the Word was heard and the rest,

well the rest just didn’t really matter after that.

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She can’t sleep,

can’t watch tv,

can’t eat.

She’s scared

of the day,

of the night,

of what’s to come.

She can’t sleep,

can’t write,

can’t read.

She’s numb

too scared to try,

too scared to succeed.

She stares into the distance,

at the ceiling,

at her feet,

but never returns the glance of a strangers eyes should they meet.

She’s awkward

physically,

socially,

A mere drift in the right direction,

would that be too much to ask?

She looks down at her feet, and continues her path.