It May Be a Mess, but at Least It's Ours

Lightning flashed on the window pane,
Three bright streaks that left no stain;
Just like her sparkling tears
That display all her hidden fears,
Not one leaving a visible mark
As she cries softly into the dark,

She wanted to walk away from the storm,
Wanting to escape from her own storm.
She knew the clouds would blow away
And that she'd still hurt the next day.
She needed away from that place,
Knowing her fears in front of her face.

She wanted the tears to leave,
So wiped them gently with her sleeve.
As soon as they were wiped from her face,
More came flowing to fill their place.
With trembling fingers she reached her phone,
Calling to explain she was alone.

He rushed straight over,
As the storm grew darker.
He ran up the stairs to her
And wrapped his arms around her.
She leaned into his warm side,
And slowly the tears began to subside.

The storm outside passed soon after,
No one saw the way it affected her.
When the sun came out the next day,
All her tears had been locked away.
But he was ever so moved by it,
Thankful he was her comfort blanket.