The Lifelong Storm

A looming storm, gray and dark advances onto the calm

with heavy air pushing down like the weight in my chest.

Charged and ready to release splinters of jagged electricity

from the oppressive sky approaching with violent intention.

The wind blows in scents of soil and flowers trying to keep me grounded,

but like my mind, it howls in chaos and moans in desperation.

Tree branches scratch against the window, uninvited like intrusive thoughts,

begging to get in.

Fear grips me like the uncontrollable vortex drawing near,

swirling with destructive debris, cutting, scraping, and powerful.

Sirens now blaring in my head to warn me of impending doom

as the rain begins to fall, now coexisting with my tears of despair.

The hair on my arms rises just before the forceful strike.

A brilliant glow, random and fast with a paralyzing and sudden jolt.

The booming sound of thunder pounding like my heart.

A panic attack.

There is no shelter for this storm, no roof to take the painful blows of hail,

no wall to block the angry wind, no warmth to stop the trembling.

It rages unapologetically devouring hope and rational thought,

eager to know if it will consume me this time.

And then, as suddenly as it came, the storm begins to fade,

gradually passing on with no amends, no vindication.

The wind lowers its voice to a whisper; allowing my mind

to wade through the fog lingering in the stubborn heavy air.

Manic cloudbursts diverge to clear skies allowing

fresh beams of hope to sparkle in my depleted tears.

And though the storm will come again without forewarning,

I’ll weather it through like I do with my anxiety and pain.