Ground

Photo Credit: CassiusB at deviantart.com

I am spinning.

On a rocket-fueled gust
of hurricane winds,
I’m tumbling,
plummeting on icy waves
of a perfect storm.

The handholds are fog,
the saviors,
smoke,

and the ground grows close,
so close that I can smell
my blood in the grass,
my bones mixed with dirt.

Rescue me.

Someone.

Save me from myself.

~Patience

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