The Struggle

 At times you're like a tornado.
Powerful. Swift. Destructive.
And I am nothing but that which you
tread upon.
Sometimes you're like a stream.
Barely noticeable, but always stirring,
awaiting the slightest storm.
You are a constant that doesn't belong,
yet you persist.
You take control, making it hard to breathe,
to think, to rationalize.
You grab hold of your target and push, until
walls crumble and colors fade. Taking everything.
Leaving only an empty shell.
Lost. Alone. Defeated.
So, this is how it is every day.
Not knowing HOW you will show yourself,
but knowing you WILL just the same.