Weathering The Storm?

By Chloe Chahrouri

The wind outside howls with power, as I stare glassy-eyed at the window with a glower.

Under the sheets I cower, my feelings I ignore. The clock moves by the hour

but breathing becomes a chore.

The storm outside is a war

but inside has no peace,

as I think more and more

I fall apart by the piece.

My limbs come off their unused hinges and walk out of the bed.

My red eyes abandon

their tear ducts and flow away.

My heart that took a beating thumps

as it departs in fury.

Devoid of my misery,

I can now shut the blinds.

The rain has ceased, and I no longer feel anything-

not even the cold. I may have made it out alive but did I truly weather the storm?