When I think of you,
I think of rainy days and morning coffee.

Of flowers and laughters.

Of dancing in the rain, feeling alive.

Of moments made from pure happiness.

But I also think of thunderstorms made by bitter love.

Of hands that write stories only for you.

Of guilt for being human.

We were bitter sweet thunderstorms.
Wild, unpredictable uncontrollable and unconditional.

Never together always united.

We were bitter sweet truth.

No one wants to hear, but we're loud.