The Storm I Tried to Hold
She came to me like lightning in a bottle,
A spark I could cradle, but never quite contain.
The split-tongue girl, speaking truths and daggers,
Each word a fire, each silence a strain.
I saw her as the storm worth chasing,
A sky alive with beauty and fear,
But storms don’t settle for steady ground,
And I was never fully here.
She fought for love like it was war,
Claws out, defending what she believed,
And somewhere in the chaos of her fury,
I became the wound she needed to leave.
The dogs, the night, the flashing lights,
A moment that shattered into blame,
I reached for reason, she reached for pain,
And somehow, I was the one she named.
Not for what I did, but what I couldn’t be,
Not for truth, but what she chose to see,
A mirror cracked by fear and doubt,
Reflecting a man she could live without.
And still… I see her in the twilight,
A silhouette I can’t erase,
A ghost that lingers in quiet moments,
A memory I still embrace.
But love, I’ve learned, is not just fire,
It’s not just passion dressed in pain,
It cannot live where trust is fractured,
Or grow where hearts don’t remain.
You cannot build a life on maybe,
Or plant your future in shifting sand,
No matter how tightly you try to hold it,
Some things were never meant to land.
And yet…
If she chose to stay through the wreckage,
Through the echoes, the doubt, the past,
If her hand still reached for mine in the silence,
And she chose me — fully, at last —
Then maybe the storm was never the ending,
But a fire we both survived,
A test of the fragile and fierce in us,
A proof that something real stayed alive.
Maybe the dream we spoke in whispers
Wasn’t just smoke in the air,
But something written beneath the chaos,
Waiting for two hearts aware.
Maybe we could still have the child we dreamed of,
A little light from both our lives,
But not the one that lived in the old soft promise,
That dream would need a different sky.
Not perfect, not painless, not easy to hold,
But honest in all that we’d been through,
A love not built on illusion or fear,
But on choosing each other… true.
And me,
I stand at my own crossroads again,
Not just between her and the past,
But between the man I’ve always been
And the one I need to become at last.
A father in fear, a lover in pieces,
A heart divided between duty and dream,
Trying to untangle what love really means,
And what it was versus what it seemed.
Because she was never just the answer,
And I was never just the cause,
We were two storms colliding in darkness,
Writing beauty… while breaking the laws.
So now I loosen my grip on the lightning,
Even as it burns to let it go,
Hoping maybe it finds its own sky,
Even if it chooses to stay below.
And if she was my lesson in fire,
Then let me be forged, not destroyed,
For I am more than the king of broken hearts,
I am a man learning how to rebuild what was void.