Tornado
Can you actually feel the air, first whistling through your ear?
Only to find it louder, stronger, deadlier?
A whisper turns into a cloud
A dream, into a nightmare.
I am in the middle.
It twirls fast.
It chases me
While I stand firmly on the ground.
Why pick me?
All around me,
Houses, pieces of paper
Sharp objects
They are all blown into the cone.
They scratch me.
Scathe me.
Strip me naked.
I can hardly breathe.
I get dizzy.
I get blown by the wind.
But I still hold firmly.
Each finger lets go.
I scream.
My hair, my clothes,
my sanity.
Everything is pulled away from me.
Until the last finger lets go.
I close my eyes.
Fighting whatever ounce I have
And I enter into a world.
One last kick.
But I'm drawn.
I can hardly breathe.
I can see the world
whirling.
Until I finally close my eyes.
Sunday, November 18, 2012
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