Tropical Storm: Res.
Natural disasters are spiking like a bed of nails
Dead bodies dangle from the ceiling, falling from seasons like snowflakes
No stories are the same
Spread your wings, warrior
I’ll weave you a parachute from plastic bags that way you can jump from even higher
Glide through the air with freedom calling your name
Is that what he told you would happen?
Conjure a tornado of pens and paper
Like Dorothy's house, twister winds yank you from your foundations
Before you can say help, your hand is filled with a pencil, this is your help
Sign alongside your brothers and sisters
Cross your t’s and dot your i’s
Like hail beating on your back I-I-I-I can’t do this anymore
I can’t watch as you drink whiskey like water when I just want to dance in the rain
Pine needles stab me like icicles, cold and unforgiving
As I reach under the tree for presents that aren’t even there
My whole life is a mudslide and I scream like an avalanche but nobody hears me
So I’ll flood my body with this remedy
You can leave me with the rest of the corpses