Tempest

despair

Big grey clouds are covering my skies lately. Every so often there’s a

break where the sun shines through but then,

too quickly,

the clouds eat it up again. I’m flailing here.

I don’t know what to do,

so all I can do is simply sit

and wait until the storm begins and, then,

ride it out.
It’s tiring, this waiting.

I try to build up a sand-bag partition because

I know it will flood

but the bags are so heavy and I tire from the work.

Besides, it’s just sand in the bags. One rip and it all washes away

and the water will still continue to trickle through. Or else,

the sand will absorb only so much of the water and then that’s it.

It can take no more.

Maybe I’m the bag of sand.
Sometimes I’m the water,

threatening to rage across the land,

devour everything in my path. I could, you know; it wouldn’t be hard.

Drown everyone and everything so that nothing’s left

but me and my misery.

Then slowly I’d recede back to the nothing I came from and

we’d begin again.

Start fresh;

let the green things take over.
Maybe I should let the flood overtake me.

Let it fill my lungs and drive the air from my body.

That’s what it wants to do.

Drowning couldn’t hurt more than this

power struggle between us every day.

Blood sacrifices were sacred, once upon a time, and,

God knows,

I’ve bled gallons that dripped into

this salt-water Niagra my tears created.
But I can’t do that.

Instinct forces me up to fight

(I’ve never been much good at flight),

so here I am

building up the wall again

as I wait for the storm to burst.

 

*therapy writing today using poetic medicine. It does your emotional health good.

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10 comments on “Tempest

  1. bobcabkings says:

    Stormy feeling – stormy relationship – through the therapy, hope, perhaps for the smell of clean air after rain?

    Liked by 1 person

  2. bobcabkings says:

    Reblogged this on cabbagesandkings524 and commented:
    More poetry from Jessica Scott

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Lizzi says:

    *HUGS* Oh, Pinky, I wish you weren’t going through such a tempest, and I SO admire your dedication and your commitment to trying to ride out the storm and making sure everyone gets through as okay as possible.

    I get it, though, the gentle lull of wondering what it would be like to let go and let it all wash clean ❤

    Liked by 2 people

  4. beth teliho says:

    *hugs* Beautiful, evocative poetry.

    Liked by 1 person

  5. Great therapy writing. Hate that you are going through this now. Wish I could pull you out of the storm. Put you on dry land. Write on. You write well.

    Liked by 1 person

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