Complex

Written by the Amazing 40 oz. Flashbacks

My hands are perched, ready to strike.

I wait hours for her to make a move.

The lightning strikes in a swift motion

And she's carried off by the storm again.

She is so complex like that.

The doors of opportunity stare her down.

The echoes of regret laugh at her every move.

The door she takes is the one she wants

But she can't help looking over her shoulder.

She is so complex like that.