Blood Storm – A Poem

Parts of me are becoming unraveled.

There is a wind around me

and I can hear the storm.

It whispers to me,

tells me that I am worthless,

that my fight is for nothing.

I grit my teeth,

pushing forward,

even though my legs feel

as if they are walking through wet sand.

Even as I try to hold on to everything,

the wind works a thread free

from my grasp.

Letting my head fall back,

my scream joins the noise around me

even as I feel thread slice my right palm.

Still,

I go forward

blood dripping from my skin,

in hopes that the storm

will cease.