AIR

I don’t like the ocean
the water is too pure
too arrogant
too aggressive
it tosses you around 
like you’re it’s bitch
pushes you out on to the sand
and then drags you back in
just so it can throw you back out again

I like rivers
because the water has lived
It’s been stagnant and slow moving
and collected diseases and fended them off
It’s been full and has flowed over
and been sucked into the sky against it’s will 
at times it’s pulse has been strong
and at times it has been weak
the water is murky and full of shit
and it flows anyway into safer, cleaner places
and has flowed back into the shit after it thought that it had finally gotten it right
but no matter how much shit it flows through,
it still flows
and even though it has nothing to offer you
you and the moon are always welcome

It’s easy to judge a hurricane
but a hurricane is just air
that wants to be free
it’s air that’s tired of being breathed in
and used
and made into something that it’s not
it’s air that’s tired of the empty promises
that the ocean has to offer
so it rebels and fights back
takes what it needs
and goes looking for revenge
on those who have taken advantage of it
only to realize that it was wrong in those actions
and not long after that
it fades away forever
leaving miles of destruction behind
in it’s wake
I like hurricanes, too
because I understand a hurricane
I get it
I know what that feels like

anonymous said:

Is there any deities of storm, rain, or wind?

Gods that come immediately to mind are Thor, Mananan Mac Lir, and Oya. They are Norse, Irish, and Yoruban, respectively.

~ Brynja

There is also Perun for storms, and there is some debate as to whether he or Veles are associated to rain. Stribog is the god of wind I believe. All these are from the Slavic pantheon.

-Delffin

Storms Like You

You’re the type of storm I’d watch from the shelter of my front porch. I figured you’d tear through this little town with grace and blow out the toxic emissions that clouded my thoughts. I imagined you’d cleanse the dirt spackled cracks of these well-traveled streets, but chaos lurks where two fronts meet. I was wrong and of all things, I should have expected at least that. I could not dance in your rain, for you flooded the pastures we once leisurely roamed. The breeze you carried crawled up my spine with eight legs. The thunder you boasted rattled my ribs like chattering teeth. And despite the way the weather viciously changed, here I am. Touched but not altered. Storms like you are forcefully contagious in that they show up uninvited, raise hell, and continue on their way. You’re consuming with an unquenchable thirst for disaster. You’re the storm without warning and I’m just watching you pass by.

Fuck.

Its ironic how empty I am because I swear 6 months ago I had the universe inside of me, but I cried the rivers in my bones dry.

The volcanoes in my chest erupted when you told me you didnt love me anymore and lava flooded my body and hareded till I stopped sleeping.

I had stars in my lungs but I burned them all out with the cigarettes I was smoking to get you the fuck out of my throat.

The flowers growing at the bottom of my stomach are dead.
Apparently you cant water flowers with vodka.

I had the sky in my veins but its pretty fucking stormy since I ripped them open.
I had planets on the tip of my tounge but the debris from the shattered remains of “us” have been crashing into them.

I was everything.
And then I met you and we were everything.
Now your fucking a blonde girl who gets high all the time and im a fucking mess.

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