I Am the Storm I Was Running From

I spent my days outrunning shadows,

Chasing the sun, afraid of the rain,

Telling myself I was fragile and small,

A leaf in the wind, lost in the pain.

I ran from the thunder, the echoes inside,

From the roar of my heart when it wouldn’t stay quiet,

I buried my fears beneath painted smiles,

But they brewed in my chest, starting a riot.

The lightning I feared wasn’t up in the sky,

It cracked in my veins, electric and wild,

The storm I kept fleeing was stitched in my bones,

Not some distant cloud, but my untamed child.

I ran and I ran — from my anger, my scars,

From the voice that whispered, “You’re not enough,”

But the longer I ran, the louder it grew,

The storm wasn’t cruel — it was fierce, it was tough.

And one broken night when the winds caught my name,

When the sky split open with all I’d denied,

I stood in the mirror, saw fire in my eyes,

And realized the storm was never outside.

It lived in my courage, my fight, my mistakes,

In every sharp edge I tried to erase,

It brewed in the tears I refused to cry,

In the fire beneath my frightened face.

I am the storm I was running from,

The thunder, the lightning, the unspoken roar,

No longer afraid of my power within,

I am the chaos, the calm, and much more.

Now I walk boldly through pouring rain,

I dance with the winds I used to shun,

For I’ve learned that strength isn’t quiet or neat —

It’s wild, it’s loud, it’s beautifully undone.

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