There is a hurricane in me,
Leaving my organs,
My soul,
My essence in shambles.

I am in the eye of the storm now.

I can ready myself
For the next
Barrage.
Put up those palates
With rusted nails.
Scratch the linens on my organs.

Bleed, bleed, bleed!

I am in the eye of the storm.
The calm. The calm.
I can rest. It is a respite
From all.

You'll be back though.
I know this.
I won't be ready; I'll survive.
You might **** me though
With your god like winds
Devastating my insides.

I'll never be ready for this.
That's the point:
To be ready for anything means
That we know nothing.

My hurricane. My selfish tongue needs you.
You need me.
We need each other.
The calmness of death.

Die, die, die!