My Forecast

My skin is my shield

It protects me from the world

It protects the world from me

The veins in my arms and legs look like bolts of lightning

There are tornadoes roaring and coursing  through my blood

There are tsunamis slamming against my ribcage

Am I the only one hearing the earthquakes?

There are forest fires flaming behind my eyes

Hurricanes relentlessly tearing at my fingertips

The chaos is addictive

The attention you give me for my unpredictable climate

I mistake it for healing

I mistake it for safety

Stop coddling my natural disasters

I beg you stop fueling the volcanoes in my stomach

Stop feeding the avalanches in my skull

I am begging you give up the appeasement of my acid rain

The uproar of nature in my bones isn’t for you to save

The torrential downpour clawing at my throat is mine

It’s my skin

It’s my lightning, it’s my hurricane, it’s my explosion

So sound the alarms and evacuate.

 

This poem is about: 
Me

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