Time in the eye of the storm

I could never say it to you,

not yet,

despite how much I've

been thinking about it.

 

I just don't know how to say it,

how to express it in general.

 

Time does not exist with these thoughts,

they are so heavy they've pulled time down,

not just a helpful anchor to keep it stable,

rather a rope creating an eye for the storm,

which has now ended stability entirely.

I want the storm to come

 

A random thought came to me today: I want a storm to come; a really big one. Seriously. 
It's been ridiculously hot in Sudbury the last few days, and the weather has teased us with the hint of a storm a few times. I just want the storm to happen.
I don't mind hot weather, but it has been ridiculously hot and humid for too long now. Also, how cool is it when a huge storm happens? It's awesome! I love watching the lightning fork through the sky, and having the thunder rumble the house. I like the sound that the torrential downpour makes against the rooftops. Mostly, I love the chilly, stormy air, as it invades the humidity like Napoleon invading Russia (oh wait, I guess that didn't go so well.) The analogy works though, because the stormy coolness comes on strong, and is eventually beaten back. It isn't quite the 'scorched earth' strategy, but it's close.
All history nerdiness aside, I'm still waiting for the weather to change. Waiting for change is a huge theme in human life, and maybe there's some subconscious and symbolic meaning for my excessive want of a storm. You get a couch and a big, comfy chair, I'll lay on the couch, you sit in the chair, and we'll figure it out.