Anger. Anxiety. Depression. Fear.
Imagine these feelings
Are a natural disaster.
What would they be?
Would they be an earthquake?
Making it feel hard to stay upright?
Do they create rifts
that drive you apart from loved ones?
Are they a tsunami?
Building up until one day, they burst, drowning you?
Or are they a tornado?
Just destroying everything in its path?
If you can find a way to explain what it feels like
When you're angry, anxious, depressed, or afraid,
it can be a good start to managing it.

My eyes slyly asked yours for a breeze
But your lips quickly gifted a tornado.
Uprooted, with you  I flew across like a bird,
To an island where your sharpend  nails,
Etched murals on love going sweetly violent,
On every inch, making the pain pleasurable,
All over the canvas of my down turned body.

There's a hoard of chaos all around me
You seem like the eye of a tornado
Chaos surrounds you,
even when your soul has that calmness of the eye
Getting close to the tornado now
A sea of dust, destruction, and death surrounds me
The chaos in my soul can only be brought to dust
once I reach the eye
A price to pay for a deep dive inside your soul.

Just sit still. Look
out the window and wait
for the wind to change,
and the tornado will teach you
to feel relief when waking up
held by no one.

I’ve never laid eyes on you before.
But I’ve felt you.
I’ve felt your rumble,
bellowing against the walls
of my house.
And I’ve heard you.
Your lonely howl
sighing against the small window.
And you’ve taken away my sight;
The way you ****
light out of a house,
a deep cry filling the air.
Yet the worst is
that even in the dark,
I can smell you;
toxic fumes billowing
in the humid air.
& As you came at night,
the only sign of you
was your roar,
the shattering of wood,
and each light
dropping in the city.
You may be beautiful,
but you left behind
violent demolition.

I had the sudden thought “...and I’m the thing he doesn’t mind losing”

It was a little tornado of thought that I quickly put inside a mason jar and placed on a wooden shelf in my living room.

I sat on the couch across from it observing it and watching it stir.

“What a thought”

How destructive it could be to let that little storm out. It could grow and it’s winds could slowly start to peel off the walls and start to take down the roof.


So, I closed my eyes, cupped my hands and I thought of your smile–warm and tender. When I opened my eyes, a seedling had grown over my left palms.

“How beautiful”

I contemplated putting it in glass encasement, to watch it from afar, but instead I decided to take it outside and plant it near the middle of my front garden.

“This is what I want to cultivate” a flourishing sprout of life; a garden of plenitude.

I feel like a zombie.
I walk around aimlessly
trying to find
ways to sleep.
Epicly Failing.
I can’t help
but walk around
through this time & space
of sleeplessness