Literary Descriptions of a Storm

I've searched the world for a simile to describe the way the thunder cracks like a whip, to explain the lightning flashing as though a child found the light switch.  Perhaps the old idea, that the rain pours like so many tears from God's eyes.  
I've sat for hours, trying to imagine a metaphor to explain the way that the storm is a sobbing child, an angry toddler, a warring couple late into the night.  
I've spent long nights awake, dreaming up ways to personify the way the thunder throws her against the wall, an angry lover who learned too much, too soon.  The way the rain punishes us for all the wrongs done to her by someone so far away, someone so far gone.  


I'm not sure how to end this...  I'll work on it more later, probably, but for now this is what I have.  


<3 Kiersten

A Simile for Death

Day 6:
It's the feeling that you get watching the water circle to the drain, like a little girl again.  Like it's all rushing away from you, leaving you with nothing but a faint memory of it's once being there.  The feeling of your entire life flushing away before your eyes, and there's nothing you can do the stop it.  


It's like the autumn leaves falling away from the trees.  The cold breeze blowing them away, to different parts of nowhere, of everywhere, of anywhere.  Of nowhere that you'll ever see them again, and if you don't pick them up now, each and every piece, then you'll have to admit that the summer is gone, and the winter is fast approaching.  And there's nothing you can do about it, because you can already feel the snow breathing coldly on the back of your neck.

It's the pit in your stomach, as you sit in the backseat of a yellow taxi, watching your childhood home fall away from you, getting smaller and smaller in the distance.  It's watching your childhood memories flash by your car window at 35 miles per hour, until there's nothing you even recognize left in the rear-view mirror.  And you can't turn around and go back, because you already told them all that you were leaving for good.  


That's what it feels like, your life flashing away before your eyes, and there's nothing you can do but watch it go.  


I don't know why I wrote this...it's what came when I sat down and told myself to write something.
<3 

Who, What, Where, When?

Day 5:
Who can I call you?

When you say you have no name
Who can I claim to be?
When you say it's me to blame


What can I say to you?
When there's nothing you haven't heard
What can I try to teach you?

When there's nothing you haven't learned


Where can I take you away to?
When there's nowhere you haven't been
Where can I try to show you?
When there's nothing you haven't seen


When can I finally kiss you?
When you always tell me to wait
When can I finally hold you?
When you tell me it's not our fate


<3

Register Number Three

Day 4:

"Okay, and your total's going to be...$19.73."  

She smiled at me, that plaster smile that everyone learns after their first 8 hour shift at the Quick-E-Mart down the street from my apartment.  And years later, when they're starting a family and a new career at a prestigious law firm, they still can't forget it.  It'll become like a habit, her go-to when 8 hours and an angry customer at register number 3 are making her want to run so far away.  Someday, when she's presenting an idea to a new client, she'll flash that smile without even realizing it.  

It's not genuine, not even the least bit.  And it's not taught, either.  It learned, quickly, on the job.  A necessity, like breathing.  It calms, reassures, placates.  And for the rest of her life, that's what it will do, when she least expects it, when she doesn't even realize that she's doing it.

"Have a great day," and she smiles as I pick up my change, and walk away.  

<3

It's Raining Again

Day 3:

She pours down in a sorrowful, bitter dervish, surrounding us all for days at a time.  Relentless in her pained search for vindication, she pains us all, making us see what we have only tried to be blind to.  And at the end of it, with the sun fighting it's way back to the front, she leaves us with a  few, final tears and a promise to be back.    

It's raining again.  I can't stand this weather...

<3 

Happy Wednesday

Day 2:
"Why don't I know what to write?"  Staring at a blank page, this is what I ask myself.  Outside my window, the insects are gathering, trying to escape the death that they know the night might bring.  Everything's quiet, and if I listen, I can hear the heater humming and the refrigerator cooling the leftover Chinese food I'd ordered for dinner.  I would turn on my music, listen to the swirling of the piano notes thrown together in some sort of beauty, but I know that at this point of the night, it would only distract me.  I'd lose myself in the notes, in the feelings that the composer put into the song, and in the treble clefs floating around my head. So I sit still in the silence, hands poised on the keyboard, listening to the heater hum, and the refrigerator cool.  And then I switch off the desk lamp, and sit that way in the dark, listening to my thoughts, to the voices in my head that are asking me the same, overwhelming question:  "Why don't I know what to write?"

<3 me

Day One

Last night, I made a good time of taking photos of all things Halloween that I could find in my dorm room.  This mask was a part of my costume. :)


Day 1 Writing:
Like vagabonds, we wandered the streets, freezing in our costumes and looking for a place to go.  It was late, and with the dark it was getting colder every second.  But we didn't mind - we were enjoying the time, the mystery of where we were going, of where we'd end up.  The mystery of where we'd be at the end of tonight, and of what the first rays of the morning light would have in store for us