The World is Gray and Other Truthful Lies

Part 3

In the furthest corner of the darkest room I sit staring blank faced out the window.

Apparently it's supposed to storm for eight straight days

Apparently the rain will be torrential, the winds creating tornados

And- I sit, waiting. Watching, wondering.

If it really is such a bad thing

Because I thought it had been storming this whole time

Hurricanes, tornadoes, acid rain.

They've all been happening to me

Surely it's not only me

But, apparently I'm the only one whos seen

The devastation in my mind

My psychiatrist says I'm fine

So why has it been storming all this time

It only seems fitting that the outside should match the inside

So I wait and anticipate

The destruction before me

Maybe then I'll understand

Why I can't be set free

Why it has been storming

And why the destruction is only happening to me