Alive

There is a storm brewing outside,
A hurricane I don’t want to find Subdued of mere fear of being
Driven away with it, there’s me
And there’s just nobody else
Here or there left to see and
I wonder if this makes me somehow
Brave or if it just a repercussion
Of the rain and the wind swirling 
Outside, threatening to take away
Those who can’t hold their ground,
And I do worry, for I am only a little
Lady of sorts, and I do worry if
It is all just a dream because when
The storm brews within the crevices
And edges of my alleged home, 
And consternates the fragile mind
Of my little sister, because when it
Does, it makes me feel eligible to
Sway and get lost within the sky
Like a monster who craves a touch
Of love and gets to see if from afar,
Because when the hurricane comes,
And I assure you it has, it makes
Me feel alive, and breathe in gasps
Of the ticking time.

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8 thoughts on “Alive

  1. Pingback: Alive II | The Olive Grove| <(")

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