Raw, Unedited, Incomplete

from my lonely seat in the corner
through the coffee shop window
the outside feels like, looks like rain
the sun is there still shimmering
summer heat dancing on the pavement
but shadows loom darker than before
brooding and restless, the atmosphere
is weighted with leaden anticipation
my sanguine half wishes the warm wind
would scatter the clouds and usher blue
back into to the sky but I’m conflicted
my melancholy half hopes heaven will split
and the winds will rage, grant permission
to the storm and to me, to shout at
the top of my lungs with the thunder,
release my storm instead of pretending
all clear and sunny, in this hour alone
I sit and imagine a violent storm would be
preferable to forced cheer I don’t feel