Moments pass just like storms. Cleared up skies don’t let you remember much of the thunder. You’re left happy and dry and don’t remember the rage you were under.
I think that’s why I love the after-storm. It leaves you electrified and ready for more. You’ve forgotten the wreckage you had to clean. Water falls down and I can barely remember the anger in me.
I think I have a universe inside me. Black holes that eat the thunder and lightening. I think I have consellations inside me that are so big they are frightening. The cosmos swirl above me and inside me. They patched up the holes for me to better see. I don’t feed off what I don’t need.
I don’t need to not be needed. I don’t need now to remember then. I’m perfectly capable of loosely holding onto memories of them.
I think the universe inside of me has aged me like the earth. It’s just steady inside and I think he wants me to quake like the grounds sometimes do. I think he wants me to hurt like him and I wish he didn’t have to.
I have this warm front creeping in. I just let in the light, now, at the small cost of holding on to all my sins.
I get to keep both. The storm and the calm. I don’t get rattled like I used to. That frightened girl is gone.
Because I am a universe now, I don’t need the nows to enjoy the thens. There is so much light and dark inside me that I’m more balanced than I’ve ever been.