My Storm

Even in front of my therapist I said I was fine, The one person who I pay to tell me that it is alright to not be, Here I am one more time saying, I’m fine, Years upon years of visits, and tears, and there was still nothing that could be done to calm what was going on in my mind, I used to write song lyrics, Nothing of substance, but to a nine year old who was convinced that she would one day share a stage with her idols, Brittany Spears and Hilary Duff, they were everything, This girl grew up into the woman who was changed by authors, I had sailed away from tweenaged paradise and into the land of words, My reality distorted by all of the literature that I could absorb, I could cocoon myself in a world that I was temporarily a part of, When I discovered that these writers, these authors and poets had seen the torment that the fates planned out, I didn’t feel different anymore, Rather than try and create the new tantrum about how I am a messed up little girl, I chose a weapon that I found in the top drawer in my father’s desk, A ballpoint pen, that I knew was too expensive for my rudimentary words, Words that evolved into stories, My story was meant to be heard, Who knew that a man from the sixteenth century could alter the life of a fourteen year old girl, In shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet, Romeo says, “a rose by any other name would still smell as sweet”, Sweet like me, But I am not defined by my name, by my family, I have been brought here by mistake, Mistakes create chaos, But there is always a calm in the eye of the storm, and that is where I plan to stay, I can feel the winds swirling at my back, But call me Poseidon because I know how to calm the seas, Can you see me here, I’ve become in command of my life, As many times as I say sorry to my mama, she’ll never forgive me for loving language, She’ll never forgive me for following my passion, She hates that what made me were the words of others, But I’ve made my own words now, And when I step on stage to read about how she made me, The tears start pouring, Bring down the lightening, clap thunder, This is a whole new kind of storm, Just like different pressures crashing together my vocal chords create the friction for the lightening, Followed by the snaps from the crowd , My storm is beautiful, And at the end, the rainbow, the rainbow doesn’t fade when the rain upon my audience’s faces as dried, The rainbow carries on inside all of us, Because that is what drives us to tomorrow, What drives us to live a better day, tomorrow, To wrap ourselves up with what we love, And remember that in the middle of the storm, there will be another rainbow at the end.