#(name of tornado/hurricane)relief

There's this whole visual sadness to the aftermath of tornadoes. Your brain can digest horrible visions of irreparable families & homes. Your soul can witness the morbidity of one hundred untimely deaths. You can hear the cries & even produce your own, yet you can only imagine the torment you cannot see. You see, this affliction rises from the pain of the affair. The heart of the matter. The eye of the storm. Which, as it turns out, is not very visual at all.

Nothing/Everything/Same thing

Seventh attempt to feel. Enough water-like substance formed heavy beads in each eye socket to match the sizeable, pre-existing knots comprising my stomach. Gravity kicked in; a solitary tear falling first from the left duct, then the right. I fell alongside them. Outside myself, I became myself. Standing resurrected, my broken body in full view: I could not feel anything, at all. Except pain. I pressed the blade's sharpened edge against the smooth, un-tanned belly of my August sun-darkened arm. No, no. Arms; first the left, then the right. These fragile limbs, now barely attached to wrists currently bent in such awkward typing positions, met their limits; this numbing razor met my innermost workings. Hard, deep gashes, & deeper still... I smiled, my veins bursting, as blood hit air. Metamorphosis. Unobtainable blue forever turning sweet, dark red. I do not feel anything, at all. Except relief. Hearts drawn on paper conceal my frozen, cardiovascular time-bomb previously cycling the same hemoglobin now revealed to all six senses; first through the left ventricle, then the right. Lungs, contracting. Plasma, pumping. Lungs, expanding. I feel everything, all at once. Except sorry.

123086

I stared at my birth certificate, copying the largest printed words over and over. In cursive; in print. Lowercase; all capitals. I tried to convince myself that those words were myself. I strived to learn my name. I yearned to accept my identity. I wanted to believe. I needed to belong. I have never felt so ostracized.

I am born

You're not upset when you post pictures you're not smiling in or statuses without a bunch of extra letters on the ends of words.
You're not upset when you tell your friends you want to leave or they wouldn't understand or they deserve better.
You're not upset when you blast your music & scream into the sky & curl up in a ball, sobbing hysterically.
You're upset when you stop signing in to social networking sites, when you stop answering your phone, stop texting back, stop talking altogether, when you just drive but don't hold on to the wheel because what is steering anyway.
You're upset when you leave & never come back because you don't think anymore, you don't need to think, because you just know... you know no one understands & you know they deserve better than what's left of your pathetic self.
You're upset when you listen to the silence, taking it in as you stare up at the sky, lying on the ground, limbs spread, fragile, helpless, still.
You're upset when you reach nothing, less than nothing. Oblivion.
You're numb when you reach rock bottom.
And then, from nothing, you are born.
No, I'm not there yet. I'm still writing & thinking & trying. But I'm close. I can feel my birthday coming.

The person you love is 72.8% water

That's all you are, really. Skin & bones. Chemical reactions & acidic combinations. Right? No, no; I refuse to believe it. With all due respect, sir, I find this breakdown quite inaccurate. Your every breath leaves it all the more apparent that you're simply much, much more.

You & I vs. Exploding Skies

I love thunderstorms. The hiss of the wind, the boom of the thunder, the lightning that illuminates the sky. Why? Because of the chaos. Because sometimes in this boring, scheduled, waiting-for-Friday-night life that we all lead, we just need the world to remind us that not everything is perfect. Sometimes nature can't handle the pressure. Sometimes the sky explodes.

The pros & cons of breathing

I sat down in the shower. I reached my arm forwards & found the knob & turned it hotter & hotter until the water on my back felt like hot coals. Each drop bounced against my head, stinging, until I could no longer take the repetitive burns along my body. Inhale. The water soon dripped down my temples to my lips where it waited patiently to fall away in drops. I was soon made aware how hot my lips were. I could imagine my face right now, plastered in hair & flowing obsidian. It was probably hideous. Suddenly, I spun the knob to the blue snowflake. I went numb. Perfection. Not only did it exist, but it existed at that very moment, the soothing numbness taking over my body was perfection. Exhale.

Lights Out

We were just a couple of self-educated kids who enjoyed the simplest things: quoting knowledgeable authors, sleeping with our headphones in, & talking about the stars. But a day came that you didn't write back, & then another day after that... before long, you were long gone. I suppose that's how all the best tragedies end. All at once. Flickering is for suckers. You went out like a light. You left me in the dark.

Calendar Fever

Today is named Thursday, so I had work, although I don't know why... this already feels an awful lot like the weekend. & I'm telling you this because I don't believe the dead can very well keep up with the days of the week. It is Thursday, & I miss you, & I find myself increasingly compiling words in new ways, falling asleep to the sound of silence, & discussing the stars with none other than my own heart.

Flight.

I am at once inspired & intimidated by those that have come before me. An ever growing, ever changing amalgam of emotions. Inadequacy is quick to come & go, replaced by & replacing an eagerness that bursts at & breaks the seams; one that ignores any sense of preparation. Fight or flight, & ready to do both.

At times I am oblivious to this blessed sense of direction but I own it & I am thankful, every simultaneously too. Slowly, & yetsorapidly passing second. I am old & I am young with the world ahead, behind & on my shoulders; ready & waiting to be conquered. & I will conquer it. Because I know I can.