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Hurricane

This is me.

By Emily LanePublished 6 years ago 1 min read
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Emotions rip through me like wild winds. Destroying everything its its path.

Crippling trees and flooding dry land,

And by trees I mean relationships that once stood so tall beside me now bend and brake under the pressure of my constant storms.

And by dry land I mean myself, drowning in everything that is out of my control.

Beautifully destructive, a force of nature made by pressures that the world around me puts on my shoulders.

Waves of destructive patterns hit the shores of my mind like a tsunami.

Leaving every grain of sand shifted and tossed around like the words inside my head.

Limbs shaking as the storm draws closer, like the shaking in my hands as I fight off surges of energy that are all to strong for me to bare alone.

But here I stand

Defiant. Beside myself as everyone takes shelter on higher ground.

Dark rolling clouds of gray set in on my once sunlit horizon.

They name Hurricanes after me…for good reason.

My name is Emily, and this is my storm.

sad poetry
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