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Exhausted...

Storms are enlightening to some.

I distrust the peace they bring to those unsuspecting.

Most will sleep like there's no tomorrow, enjoying the power displayed.

I stay awake ready at a moment’s notice for action.

My slumber comes after the storm has passed and retreats to gain strength for yet another day.

I am the defender of what remains to be identified.

 

Our connection is like a storm rhythmic in nature as if we are one.

A vision of the push and pull and simultaneous dance I imagine and then reality sets in.

My visions created from a fantasy that will never be realized.

I may only appreciate your hunger and thirst from afar, your spontaneity and a body pushed to its limits.

Up close you would see how I am truly just, and only, exhausted.

I am a dreamer meant, perhaps, to dream alone as I have lost my edge in the storm.

 

 

3/21/2012

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Written by
graciela-elva-vazquez
American
Published
Mar 21, 2012
Lines·Words
13·155
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