into the storm

“park into the storm” I’m told.

“wait it out” they say.

and I know that’s what i should do,

but as i sit,

palms sweaty on the steering wheel,

my sense is no longer so common.

the urge so strong to shove my foot,

fully down on the throttle,

and shoot myself full speed

into the storm,


how l long to feel the energy

of the dark clouds billowing all around me,

to watch,

eyes wide in excitement,

or maybe terror,

or maybe they’re one and the same,


as the violent torrent expands,

swallowing me whole

my heartbeat,

fast and dull in my ears,

replaced by low, deafening thunder.

the ends of my long hair,

flying in the wind

indistinguishable from the

thin, sprawling etches of light 

shooting across the sky, 

and i’m sent spiraling sideways

through the desert squall

until I deliciously dissolve

into cool drops of spring rain,

completely unraveling,

teeth, skin and bones

into the storm

or perhaps even

the wild, unpredictable essence

of adventure itself.


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