Fleeting, damaging, heightened and swaying; words are the barriers to the soul. They flow; they sway, they move with ease; often without contemplated consequences, pushing back those who dare to stand out in it.
The words are forming the weathering storm building in your soul, moving through your veins on a prowl from the mind. Bypassing your moral complexity. As the storm begins to build, the dark clouds mount, crash together and ignite, sending shock waves of lightening into the hearts of the people.
They build upon one another so quickly, piling up like leaves in the fall, one on top of the other on top of the other. The words keep pushing you back with a slight unbalance, causing you to sway and topple over in the grass.
As you regain balance the sky turns black overhead. The westward spin moves quicker and quicker and then the eye begins to form. Spinning rapidly down toward the ground… until it hits. It hits the ground with incredible force, destroying everything in its path.
The flight of the diction so carelessly expressed crashes into your face. It keeps coming and coming, trying to suck you under. You stand your ground and fight the vacuum trying to suck you in and spit you back out. You hold on.
Tether yourself to a metal pole, stay there and wait, show no fear. Before you know it, the storm begins to weaken. The vortex begins to pull back up, and the fierce winds begin to slow down. You remove yourself and peer outside the window; the trees are still swaying, branches scattered about.
The flowers are trampled and the smaller trees are uprooted, the city was displaced in the path of the storm’s wake. As you venture outside, the discourse lightly grazes your face. It’s cool, calming touch is soothing to your soul, laying down the storms of the past.
By Karina Rivera (@CaribBeautii)