I Am The Storm

Something sour lingered on my conscience, a keen sense for things amiss, prepared yet nothing could compare me for the combustion that would send my type writer keys typing to a upbeat symphony of uproar.
The pits of my stomach clenched to the unknown, sinking nervous feeling settled in the ribs of my light heart.
Something was moving closer at high speed, a head on collision was certain, and I found myself asking" How much more can my damaged mind take?"
We are only given what we can handle but still I feel that I am nearing the end of the storm only to be dissipated and carried away with the last stray hairs of wind. I feel that all that will remain of me is a grey cloud pouring acidic rain on the heads of souls that remain ignorant to the hollows of the shadows that feed on my broken.
Purity is mindless, thinking perfection will be forever more, unknowing of the scars that will soon form to tear away the minds skin leaving only the bone...cold..bare...hollow...restless...but unable to move oneself from the hour of awakening, forced to watch on as love enters every door but ones own, love entered once only too exit angrily fondling your edges, knowing the impact of the collision had all but killed your ignorance...
The calm comes after the storm...or is it the blood that pours from the veins of the aware to awaken those who's hearts still contain their original wrappings? Am I too be the knife that cuts the cracks in their disillusionment?
Am I to bring them to brink of death or allow them the dissatisfaction of bleeding from inevitable wounds?
I am the storm....I am the bone that remains when the flesh is removed by tainted love.
I am the bars that raise wrapped in barbed wire that guards your hearts from the shame of allowing the incisions of love be seen.
Prioritized your mind leaving the doubts to center at your minds core so that all is doubted.
I am inside of you, your storm.