I wanted the wind before the storm, it was always my favorite,
So I created the wind.
I let it rage and let it roam through each part, picking up dust and throwing it through the old lead windows.
How easy I think as it moves effortlessly through and out of the house I swore I would never revisit.
Just as I secure my weak thought a monsoon travels back in and the windows slam shut.
For hours I pace, I cough, I crawl, I beg for fresh air until I finally close my eyes and surrender.
The circulation stops and the dirt settles lightly to my concede and I can’t remember the last time I felt this calm.