Walk With Me
Walk With Me
Tonight the storm rages.
Is it worse outside
Or inside my head.
The thunder threatens
To shatter the window panes.
My insanity threatens
To take my life.
As the lightening
Slashes against the night,
My tears fall faster than
The rain plummets from the heavens.
I can see Him standing
In the garden amidst the storm.
A black cloaked figure,
Wet and faceless in the dark.
His hood pulled up,
Shoulders hunched forward,
Against the ferocity of the wind.
A massive man, unafraid of
Each boom, every strike.
He lifts one long arm.
Extends it out in my direction.
Come out into the chaos.
Join me in the garden.
Still crying, gasping for breath,
I open the door.
I'm not scared.
I want this.
I crave the storm.
I have felt it forever in my soul.
Maybe it's my creation.
My own intention.
The thunder is my pain.
Crashing and rumbling
Always in turmoil and suffering
Because of my disease, my past.
The lightening is my thoughts.
Flashing bright as I always
Overthrow right versus wrong
Good over evil inside my broken heart.
And, of course, the damn rain.
I never run out of tears to cry.
There is no such thing in my
Head as lack of self loathing.
But my garden,
It is beautiful.
The one piece of sanctuary
In this hell I have to escape to.
I will go to you.
I will put my small hand in yours.
I will let the rain wash my pain away.
I will raise my face and close my eyes,
Feel my garden shake with each clap of thunder.
Open your cloak, Death,
Engulf me in its warmth,
Let me be dry, safe.
Hold me in your arms.
Walk with me.
The storm ceases.
Though the sun will never shine,
There is finally silence in my garden.
Copyright © Janae Gertridge | Year Posted 2024
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