i feel a messMature

I feel a mess.  Complete disarray in hurricane winds.  Vultures circling.  The temperature has dropped and the blizzard begins; a curtain of flakes masks the world beyond the porch.  We are both agitated whirlwinds, my heartbeat is drowned in the sounds of the wind.  Quiet, it strikes me like a blow to the chest.  Things begin to fade - the tumult, the pain, the torrid rage swelling and cresting in my ribs - and in their places are only silence.

The storm tells me, be still.  It tells me, quiet, now.   The frothing mess of me has abated, I am left with the noise of my hollow lungs sucking in.  Around me, the winds have died and the storm has softened to a squall.

The End

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