When given the chance to choose between someone's action or their word; choose the one impacts you the most.

Listen to the wind screaming
And the air howling
The thunder rolling
Lightening illuminating the black skies
You will hear the storm
And remember me;
Think  
She wanted storms

These feelings engulf me,
But yet I feel nothing
I pretend I'm okay,
But I just want to explode.

I need to know-
Am I crazy?
Different?
I'm a "good" kid

If only they knew-
These thoughts I've had.
Barely hanging on
Losing the grip on reality.

Over hill, over dale,
    Thorough bush, thorough brier,
  Over park, over pale,
    Thorough flood, thorough fire,
    I do wander everywhere,
    Swifter than the moonè’s sphere;
    And I serve the fairy queen,
    To dew her orbs upon the green:
    The cowslips tall her pensioners be;
    In their gold coats spots you see;
    Those be rubies, fairy favours,
    In those freckles live their savours:
  I must go seek some dew-drops here,
And hang a pearl in every cowslip’s ear.

There is a whole world of words in my mind.
At night, they dance around,
waltzing with each other.
Entangling themselves into sentences, into thoughts.
Spinning at their own fancy,
the music never ending.
And I, kept awake by their frivolity,
am terrified by the dust disturbed by their dance
on the floor of my subconscious.

Along the gallant road rides a superfluous vibe,
Secreting utter destruction as it strides through massive vines.
It clasps its form against the almighty wind,
With every curve, it steeps into a lifelike kin.
  
When midnight turns, it taunts with vigorous fear.
Growing its momentum as it creeps near and near.
Suddenly, faint noises reeled in and appeared! Creak…Creak…Creak….
The wind slams into the mahogany door without any presence becoming clear.

What might it be? Who could it be?
Had the door not been closed when I went off to sleep?
The infant child began to ruminate about all the possibilities,
Until the moment it grew tired and drifted into a dream.

The child became the rider of the wind.
Dreaming of endless encounters with other hopeless victims.
Have you not noticed the source of energy imposed from within?
It was the child who crafted this skin of sin.

The silent scream soared throughout the sky.
Until the unconscious mind transformed, as it stroked midnight.
Ding…****…Ding… The animal awoke from its den;
After a superfluous vibe was intuitively picked up from within.

By: Michael M. De La Fuente