Wednesday, March 14, 2012
A storm called sickness
Seems like a storm swallowed up the world and we are just doing our best to baton down the doors. It's everywhere eating us up in gulps or gnawing like were bone. Inside trying to keep it out, but the gale beats on. Out and your in it just trying to keep your head up. Clouds that sit idle above us grey and soaking. Find some clearer skies and you know they are back home when you return. Even the house is wet to the bone and we don't feel like its home. Your sick and tired but this doesn't let up; so it begins taking out on each other. You peer out the window and shudder a little that its still the same, wince at the weatherman saying more is coming your way. Even when he jokes your so tired that you scream at the screen what now, how is there more. I can't help who helps me. Then you realize the storm is a tornado for someone else and your ashamed you complained. You get back to it, work hard again, silent stoic building up the sandbags for someone else. But your still dead on your feet. You still exhausted.