Be so fucking still that you actually begin to breathe again.

I’m the break in between the storm.

The rain fills my pores and an anxious fever leaves. Nighttime crashes through me like a wave. I feel it embrace me and whisper, “welcome home, sunshine”. It’s the sound of my mothers voice. It’s my father saying hello. It’s everyone’s hands reaching out to grab me as I fall backwards.

I’m dreaming again. I’m the thunder. You can’t see me, but you can feel me. I’m everywhere and nowhere. I’m existing and my heart is too full to ever break: the sadness, the aching pull, the fire I set inside my mind, bruised knuckles, your shaking hands, my wheezing lungs, the taste of nicotine, burnt cheeks, bloodshot eyes, kerosene breath, skinned knees, broken backs, aching shoulders. I’ve carried and carried and carried- but I let peace in. It’s a single hue that lets the nighttime know it’s time to shift. Move on. Go forth into a new day.

Mixing every want and need into nothingness because my spirit is sacred. My spirit is infinite. My sprit is shattered and stitched back together- I’ll show you the bandages, it’s healing quite nicely.

Call me your friend and I’ll call you a hero. Call me your nightmare and I’ll call you my hero. Call me your favorite and I’ll call you my hero.

I’m every storm in the seasons: I’m the pause. I’m the wakening. I’m the break between the storms. Let the shattering of clouds and rain and wreckage be still. Be still. Be so fucking still that you actually begin to breath again.