I’m both the calm and the storm—the smiling breeze in your hair and the furious thunder rumbling in the night,

the peaceful eyes gazing into your own, calming the swirling thoughts—for which I am also at fault.

I am the lapis sky through which the porcelain moon pierces; 

the electric light before the sun sets,

the tranquility of the pitter-patter of the rain.

I am the pain in your heart when they’re gone—the broken glass scarring your skin,

the turbulent anguish filled waves crashing upon you,

the navy darkness surrounding your dreams.

I am peaceful yet terrifying,

freeing and caging azure skies.

I am the calm before the storm and the sadness it carries.