This Storm

In the middle of this storm I feel nothing.
I feel nothing.

I simply stand on the cliff and stare. I stare ahead and yet I see nothing.
I see nothing and yet I am afraid to close my eyes.
I see nothing.

Fragments of memories float by, surround me. The memories turn into nightmares.
They turn into nightmares and scare me. They scare me and I do nothing.
I do nothing.

Is this real?
This pain…this pain and this wound. Is this really real?
Is this really happening? My nightmares are really my memories!
How can I breathe! How do I breathe? Exhale

Is this the breath of oxygen running inside my lungs real or is simply my chest moving?
I am simply moving my chest without actually breathing just like I am simply walking ahead in life every day without actually living.

One foot in front of the other. One foot in front of the other. Don’t slip.
Is this real. This numbness. Is this really real. This really is happening to me! Is this perfectly calm me really me?

How can I be so calm and quite?
There is a storm around me.
It surrounds me. It is inside of me.
I am in the middle of it. I am around it.
And it does not stop.
It keeps getting bigger and bigger.

It does not stop. No matter how much I try.
It does not.
And I am tired.

I am tired because these fragments of the broken pieces of my heart are bleeding my soul and I can’t take it anymore.
I can’t take it anymore. But nobody knows. Nobody knows. And yet I am screaming.
I scream and look at everyone. Anyone!

And yet there is nothing but deep dark black hole. And I walk inside of it deeper and deeper.