Angels and Their Storms

when i was growing up i was afraid of the rain and when it poured so hard that the streets drowned; i would hide in my parent’s bed to be away from the thunder, because i was scared i would die, or that i would wash away with everything else. but as i grew up, my parents told me it was the angels in the sky who caused the world to flood itself; and it was the angels in heaven who brought us the cracks of thunder that made children cry. and when my sisters were growing up under me, and they were wide eyed and scared of the storm i told them it was our grandmother; and that she had just turned the lights off in the house above the clouds after she left us before they started growing up. but it’s been five years since she died, and i found that i was no longer scared of the rain or the lightning, because the lightning that fills my room gives me a reason to exist at night; because it can light up the darkest of places and it made me try to light up the darkest place i know, which is the one inside my head. it’s been six years since i thought that it was the angels who created our storms. and now, i’ve come to be afraid of the angels in the sky. but for some reason, i’ve come to feel at ease with the storm that rages on outside my house, and with the one that downs me out on the inside