I saw the tornado in your eyesSo you learnt to hide your hurricanes,You hushed your storms silent,And hid the seams in your bruised heart,You found cracks beneath your gentle smile.(G.L)-I saw the tornado in your eyes
Poem, Untitled II am a wyrding mist, on the clotteddark of this night.I am a veil which covers thedivot, the eaves and the upper-shallows of collar-bones.I am the sigh one breatheswhen over-full.
THE WAIFHe is a profoundly beautiful boy of sixteen.He is crude, wild, a ruffian, a rowdy, and unintentionally irresistible.He is Peck's charming, but oh so bad, boy.He inspires fear and hate, and unexpectedly, love and sympathy.He is a living contradiction.His eyes are large and soft, graceful and hypnotic,Red rimmed and bagged, conjuring feelings of motherhood in women,And immediate jealousy in men.Either way, one could easily lose oneself in them,And very likely, many have.His nose has been broken once or twice,Or perhaps he was born that way,It's impossible to tell with him.It is equally impossible to tell whether it was once a good nose.However, and again as would be expected,The fact that his nose is bent and slightly mutilated,Only adds to his beauty, by taking away from it.The wild strands of hair that surround and embrace his sweet face,Obviously has ambitions known only to themselves, as does the boy.His lips are the most deceptive of all.There seems to be a smile
DreadApprehensionIt’s far away but I still feel it inside me.There’s a dread thereAnd I try to push it to the back of my mind.I’m trying my hardest to live in the moment.But it’s so incredibly thereBubbling under the surface.When the time finally comesMy heart will sink.