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Whether The Weather
It's raining in my head.
All I see is lightning in my eyes.
I hear thunder in my ears.
It's snowing in my stomach.
I can feel it melt like acid.
As my stomach rumbles, it dissolves away.
There's an earthquake in my feet.
They shatter and crumble.
I fall, lean towards the end of the earth.
A tree falls inside of me.
The weather comes, a battered bowl of soup.
Cold, too cold, to touch.
I am a hole, but I am not whole.
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Copyright © Dan E. Golden | Mirrorglassball 2009-2018