In the Tornado, Will I survive?

The wind is heavy now, the emotional debree is flying. Caught and unable to move into safety, tossed into the whirling pits of hell before me. Painful words, stabbing into my flesh like splintering wood. The wounds are deep and scaring. You will not make it, you will be sorry and regret what you have done, you say. Twirling high above the grounds of life, I look down and see everything that is normal, being ripped apart by this massive distruction. My mind is dizzy, and I am becoming incoherent. You did not try to save me, you watched as it all fell apart. I am something I do not recognize. But my eyes are opening now, and the wind is slowly subsiding, I am strong, and I will survive. You stay in the wreckage, and try to pick up the pieces and put them together again. But this time I am walking away, in search of a safer place, where I can shelter myself from the storm. Tomorrow, the sun will shine, and I will smile again. Yes, I will survive.

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