The Storm in the Middle of Summer…

The summer…
            A droplet forms, clear and full. How do I see it? Now it’s coral pink, like my cheeks after the tears. The droplet falls from its home in the clouds, from the puffy white clouds—puffy like my face. The shower falls through the air until the air is moist and breathing becomes difficult, like the diminishing lung capacity of my body.
            The sky is falling; sing the birds with raspy voices until I can no longer speak. All leaves are now on the ground and moving in the wind like my lifeless and dull body. There is lightning in the sky as it cracks wide open, like my barren soul. The thunder screams and my broken mind, no longer synaptic.

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