Along With The Thunder
I am chaos,
the storm that shatters silence —
thunder rolling through the wreckage,
still breathing, still burning, still me.
They hurt me.
Often.
And I stayed.
Not because I was weak —
but because I believed people were more
than their wounds.
I saw the hidden cracks no one else did.
I loved anyway.
But the tether snapped.
No longer do I chase the lightning
that scars but never warms.
I care — but I don’t cling.
I remember — but I don’t return.
No hatred resides here —
only a quiet goodbye
to the thousand selves who thought love meant bleeding.
I am the fire,
the lightning’s flash —
the storm’s calm eye.
I am Chaostrude.
Not a title.
A becoming.
Copyright © Becoming trude from the ruins | Year Posted 2025
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment