Storm clouds

Today she woke with a

Hollow chest and

Hazy mind.

The internal fog

Settled upon her irises,

Tainting the day

With shades of gray

Her thoughts sat imprisoned

Behind porous walls

Where only the words

With the sharpest claws

Could penetrate the cracks

She met the persistent jabs

With tired acknowledgement,

Regrettably submissive

To their pitiless intolerance

She tried to combat the pervasive hollowness

With empty stimuli,

Buy only seemed to amplify

Her mind’s spiteful side.

Defeated and trapped

Behind her own opaque mask,

She realized that sometimes

All she can do

Is wait for the storm to pass.

(And that’s okay)