The Storm

I step outside, feelign the cool air wash over me, relief from the ever-constant heat and sunshine. I bend over and slowly untie the strings to my shoes, anticipation making my hands shake. As I slip off my socks and and shoes, the storm comes closer, andry and frustrated. I pull off my light blue hoodie, taking my time, the storm screaming in my ears. It finally descends on me, demanding I listen, screaming at me, tearing at my clothes. It's angry howls constantly ring in my ears, it's claws raking my hair into my face. A small smile creeps onto my face, angering the storm even more, as if I'm mocking it. It's frustration grows as the tears start to fall now, huge drops drowning the world. Maybe it's like me? So frustrated with this world, so misunderstood and angry that it holds it all in? A volcanoe of emotions waiting to explode? Maybe it's so frustrated with this pathetic life that it wants to give up but can't because so many depend on it? Maybe it's tired of no one listening to it so it cries and screams it's curses at the world? The thought pops into my head as I take a step out into the wave of tears, my face upturned, eyes closed. The storm gets bigger and louder, the tears mixing with my own, soaking my shirt, stripping me clean. It senses my own frustrations and worries and plucks them from me, lifting the heavy burden from my shoulders. It grows in force, strenght coming from my struggles, leaving me empty and fragile as a leaf. It mixes our frustration, anger, and pain and throws it at the world, cursing it for not being what we want. Fascination crosses my face as I realize it's a wild and angry beauty that demands respect and awe. Wave after wave flows over me, giving me back a small part of my frustration to use at my will, crushing me under it's weight. The frustration makes me rigid, my knucles white agaisn't my jeans, my jaw strict, until finally, I throw back my head and scream my anger and frustration at the sky.The wind rubs my cheek gently, understanding me, leaving me emptier than before. As if sensing my wearniess, the storm starts to let up, the tears falling slowly, kissing me now. Slowly, it stops, the frustration and anger gone. With one more brush agaisn't my face, it's gone as quickly as it had come. It moves on with a new determination. With it goes my own frustrations with this world, leaving me on my knees wide eyed and empty. After a time, I slowly stand up, soaking wet. I look to where it had gone, silently thanking it for taking the time to listen to my stupid frustrations and problems when no one else would. Then, with one more look back, I go back inside, a new start and another day lying before me....