One Angry Storm

Her anger silent throughout the days.
Suppressed and subtle is her way.
Beware of the eye of her storm.
Because she will strike if she feels scorned.
Her rain is few, but subtle drops,
As they fall upon her cheek and stop.
Now her words flow fierce and bold,
Like tropical winds hard and cold.
Why does this storm seem to return?
Full of emotion as she continues to burn.
Why can't she shed a little rain each day?
Why must the floodgates be her way?
To release the fury of how she feels,
And drown a chance is what she steals.
Now wading through this storm's remains,
Her shattered heart will share our pain.