My tongue twists
like a funnel cloud.

Descending all of my
insecurities through the
whispers of my lips.

How they slide through
the roaring rotation,

As the flat lands panic
of the velocity that I bring
towards their fertilizer.

How it sends broken pieces
to its tarnished home.

"Heavens stress crowned tragedy as the final judgement"

And as I,

Suck in the aftermath.

I bathe in the after-thought
that roars like thunder.

How my mind suddenly
becomes the teacher of
knowledge,

After the concrete becomes sore
of my sound.

-CMCrain



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