Quiet Storm

Quiet storm. Inner struggle; obsolete peace. No more tears arguing took sex place. Flick the lighter ... It's 1:20 am; smoke lingers in the air. She paces goes to her bathroom safe place. I am no longer her person, she can lie with a stone face. Deny my feelings blood runs cold. No more arguing or thinking the nights are dark and long. Her rants are psychotic, she is here, but I'm still alone. Drugs take priority, love falls back a step Bricks crack and crumble; I moved forward- she cried. I stumbled ...