Storms

Storms,
I can remember storms that kept me hidden under blankets
where I could only hear thunder clap
and the rain rattle the windows.
I can remember feelings shaking me
like they were breaking the “please and thank you’s”
for the gifts that never took me with them when they broke.
I can remember being this scared
where the waterfalls fell like angels who dared
to share something they almost had.
I remember storms where no one else woke up
and in the dreams that came after,
we all left our cups
just to drop to the ground
and drink with our hands.

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About Sean O'Gorman

Spoken Word poet from Ottawa. View all posts by Sean O'Gorman

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