THE STORM By Autumn Boyet Stinton – July 20, 2017 The storm clouds outside reflect the storm brewing in my soul. My steely cold frustration with narcissistic turbulence collides with the heat of anger and produces a head of thunder, lightning and rage that will not be contained. Negative energy feeds upon itself growing to critical mass, destined to explode and rain down agony upon me and all around me. Emotions swirl and the outflow of grit and dirt blast away protection leaving each nerve exposed and feeling raw. My stomach pitches as the thunder begins to rumble and roll, unleashing a warning chorus of impending danger. “Run away,” it admonishes. “Take cover,” it warns. The air is electrified with sizzling energy that seeks to lash out and plunge its wrath into whatever may quench its thirst. As if to give credence to the warning rumble of the thunder built from angst, the full intensity of the storm bursts forth as lightning flashes and echoes t
I can see myself as though from a position above – a watcher, who can not only see the breadth and ferocity of my situation, but too, the depth of raw emotion that clouds me from my own ability to see. I am lost in my vision of even myself. I am crushed by a pressing weight of angst as it spreads through my chest causing pins and needles to crawl and twist up my neck thus creating the desperate need for me to gasp for air – pulling it in over the hot coals that reside in my chest. I struggle as though breathing through sand, but I drag in a raged breath. I gasp and draw not enough air – only enough to sustain life; only enough to feel the agony of my breath as it catches on the sharp edges protruding from my heart. Each snag makes my soul cry out in despair. But there is no stopping the pain, for it is also coursing through my blood – a river of molten desperation, restricted in flow and building pressure. My closed eyes bulge at the thin layer of lid that keeps
As I get older, I think about the timelines and guideposts that I use to gauge success in my life. I often think about what I knew (at least what I thought I knew) and what I know now. I think it is evolutionary. Life continues on and, (if we are actually living our lives), we learn and grow as we go along. I’ve always had an independent mind. I have always felt as though I was fairly sure of who I was. I knew what I wanted and where I was going. Looking back, I can see the goal posts that I set and the timelines that I created and followed – sometimes almost blindly and to my detriment. The only saving grace that I can glean from the bumps, bruises and failures I survived along the way is the realization that it is all part of the story that makes up who I am today. When I think about the timelines that are imposed on us and how rigid they can be, I can’t help but consider where they came from and how I adopted them as my own. Who felt so self-importa
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