Lady of the sea, please recite this from me.

I'm the area, am the vessels am the breeze that moves your waves for there speed.

So take responsibility, as too my objective for you.

You are too stop, the hurricanes in there pace.

How am, I to do this task.

You will surge, your waves and move water at different speeds changing the heat.

They would then have taken of you its rage.

Disruption of fury, the hurricane, saying stop, let me destroy the city's and builds.

Am the focal point, of my only Mission
too divinely place chaos into points am chooseful.

Only the objective, is plane to construct.

Going into shelters yet my strengths have been modified, so watch as bridges collapse as my previous attempts where point-less!

Now sea's are higher, in frequencys and boiling my power even "higher out pours of rage".

So scents of "humid rain" back yards you will soon be mine.

For am, making a new Region of Space, for All my Destroyed "Components shall become There".

Spinning winds and scrap and walls.

Cars horns bering north as lighting is in designated local.

So as men, run there tallest builds fail miserable.


My honor, winks "hi" then changes to good bye, the dust fills the lung's of person sadly they couldn't have stopped this.

Long duration, as Weather men ponder how the hurricane, stayed in land so long.

Span, of 4 hours the hurricane changes it's path going for a flame of green.

So tax of yellow, and suits and blue jeans filth of pavements.

Tornados spawned in too eat the gross area's.

Tennis courts ***** then engulf into the spin of raft.

There was only whom, that could reverb the hurricane, he created in pure power.

He had made preportion, to avoid all out comes if successful was achieved.

The device uses all matter, in the range of the path of a power source.

And recalculate it's pressure on the ground.

See when a hurricane, stays in land it messy with the gravity some what strange.

Planes fell out of a rigid now sky.

Super weaponry, where place in a hurry to shoot, in attempts to diulth it's stain.

Sorry the creator, then states there noting the can accomplish.

For my plains are flawless and tip toeing in silent progress.

Only there is no means of transportation, for its matter is right at scene.

Deconstructing and unfilling your subscriptions.

I'm a teacher of metric diameters and master at construction.

So with amps of vocals sted fast with your own deductions.

Should have avoided the blank white of spaces.

For my out lines came and conduct reality mods.

My weather shall, yield pure fury tornados change to EF8 and hurricanes winds reach 344 mph.

‪Me and the typer ‬
we fight the world
with vicious fury
We shake mountains
Entire lakes
of tears ripple
as we live
our truth
as men

overwhelming sadness
to embarrassment
frustration
to embarrassment again
forgiveness
it does not make sense
to those around me
so I would rather bury
bury
bury
my overwhelming sadness
to not have to
convince
impress
prove
that I can move past
beyond
away from
the first time I saw her
but actually
it was the first time
Ive ever been seen
and my heart
with all its will
it became
as if vulnerable
took over the world
all of the sudden
existence
feeling
experience
love
the first and only time
she would ever prove
impress
upon me
the invincible human being
that we are the same
I will miss you
no matter how close
no matter how far
without dissociation
I do what matters most
I will have to be reborn
opportunities to sense
new feelings
forever
but I will still miss you
rebirth after rebirth
rebirth before rebirth
the first time I had a purpose
meaning
feeling
not
negating stutus quo
or agreeing to be it
Im sorry that I allowed you
to have this journey
I hope you can be strong
I know you can
I love you
more than anything
always could
express my sensitivity
creatively
impressively
gracefully
terrified
now
when my sensitiveness
is pouring out of me
for all to see
like a heart
without
a body
expressionless
cold
crying
mourning
after a lucid nightmare
and you are no where
the sadness is crippling
but I should be healed
at the least
do what is expected
further overwhelmed
unstoppable
in vulnerable’s world
sadness is the ruler

In my arms
She felt so light
Her body against mine
Her head on my shoulder
This place feels like home

Home
This night feels exactly the night before you left
Ambitious,furious, hot yet addicting
I missed this for years

Remember
When after that night you sloped.
I burned my bed down that day
And bathed in the ashes of my broken dreams
It feels meaningless now

Alone
Yes alone I went down to hunt down
My Incessant desire to touch your skin
To caress and pull you closer
I thought the desire died
But it was subtly breathing deep within

Oh you
Your smell is still the same
It still seduces me
It still captures me through and through

I will never get over you

Their souls had spoken. Rushed off into adventure fueled by mania without first breaking the ice. These talks were between new friends. Altogether anchored by deathless subjects, they deliberated naively over a shared *** of bone apple tea. The glass was broken, but this was no emergency - just heavy words minced by chattering teeth.

Hesitating only slightly, they took a death pledge. “I’m bad and it’s not worth it,” she said. “You’ll be disappointed by me too, and I’ll bet my life on it,” he returned. They chuckled sheepishly. “You’re going to miss this too”, sang the younger sibling.

Of course, their conversation was purely conjecture, subject matter the victor of a game of happenstance, mutilated in transcription, like notes copied over the shoulder from someone else’s lecture.

Still, he hoped it didn’t matter, and without hope, it didn’t matter. Perhaps this was merely thinkful wishing. “I was a single digit, a gorilla in a concrete jungle,” his words seemed to suggest. “A flightless bird makes good food for thought. Fight or flight, fight the good fight. Always choose your battles wisely, and never speak in absolutes.” she recommended.

“It’s got to be somewhere; everything’s somewhere, but, everywhere else is not here.” he wondered. She could read between the lines; and left to write. “Stop being ungrateful and just close your eyes.” She closed the door, and he opened a window. Then, like some thinly sliced avocado that didn’t quite make the cut, he fell asleep.

I've written a thousand words that have trailed behind me for decades.
If I attempted to turn around and pick them all up as if I'm collecting shells from a beachside, it would be wheelbarrows full.

Write.
Just write Natasha.
Quit attempting to perfect this gift and just let it unravel.
Don't criticize, judge or feel
Guilt over your need to shut away and bleed the thoughts that you're unable to speak onto paper.

Release the fear that captivates you. It's that uneasiness in knowing the pain that spills once I form these words into being readable and they sink into my heart and become truth.
Truth equals pain for me.

It's the fear that this truth might just **** me.
Is it possible to die of a broken heart, I often ask myself.

Battling this fear to write this novel is the one thing holding me back from healing.

Allowing my entire being to sink into it, and rage against the words as if I'm the flat of the ocean being ravished by the never ending waves.

Tossed and turned by the emotions that come with the process that forces you to heal.

It's the still, that resides between each word written, that quiet space that leaves me restless.

Calm the infuriation, unclench your teeth and let the words be written into reality.

My need to burst into a blood pumping release that lightens my heart from this heaviness is enough to shake the floor of the ocean.

sometimes i feel
so much
i don't know
where
to put
it all
(is it supposed
to flow
out like a
river
or explode
out of my
mouth
or swallow
me
whole?)