vein of storms

i have been told that i look like a storm
especially my eyes
grey and cold like one
or visceral and bright blue like one
the ring of yellow and white like a strike of a lightning bolt
i have always have had pride in such
one point of me i find beautiful amongst the what i do not
but i am a storm inside
when i am calm and joyful, i am spring shower, so full of life
when i am suffering, i am a drizzle that lasts for days, sucking the joy out of life and pulling everything lower and lower
but when i am angry, oh how terrible a storm am i
i am fierce wind, biting rain, and striking lightning
i strike inward to not harm others
even when they have hurt me
my skin is electrified, the storm of fury waiting to explode
waiting to burst out even at loving touch and i hiss, "do not touch me."
they cower and raindrops gather in my eyes
i am sorry
i truly am for the the flurry of storms within
i am not sorry for the gentle rain
but i am for the days of blue weather and blue eyes
and the moments where my lightning strikes beyond where i can contain in
i delight in the storm that i am
but i do not delight in it as well