I can hear the wind,
Feel it rush across my skin.
The rain is tearing at the corners of my flesh,
Dragging me away like grit pulled by waves.
Shadows twist and turn, crawling across the ground, stalking me.
Branches scrape, scratch, tug, tear.
The storm washes away the blood,
leaving me cold and exhausted.
Knees cave, worn from the weight, the struggle.
The gravel scratches away to new layers,
Softer parts undamaged.
The sting helps, calms a little,
Brings me back from the edge.
The storm rages on around me,
Destructive and soulless,
Chaotic and trembling
Whipping leaves across my face,
Tangling them into my hair.
I am this storm,
It rages inside of me,
Fills me.
I am this storm,
And this storm is all I am.