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(Click to Listen-The Flood)

Our relation ride waves of change like New Orleans refugees
No FEMA teams
Just injections of depression when our tide rises
And emotions flood our better judgment
We fight for our own surface
Drowning one another with the words weighted down
By the half dead bodies of our past
And those that continue to float into our present
We hurl rocks of disrespect
like prized female cleanup pitchers pitching for game-changers
fast
underhanded
and on target
we ride pieces of drift from our own ruins on the fragments of our own happiness
and grasp for security
clinging to one another for safety
only to be tossed aside to fend for ourselves
and then to again grasp for security
again only to realize that we are all we have
We scrap for position
ripping each other out of our smiles
and leaving scars that only heal in half smiles glossed in insecurity
we wrap what’s valuable in plastic to keep the water from tainting the love that we carry with us
but we poke holes in the plastic allowing small trickles of water to seep in and contaminate
we neglect the size of the storm not because we are in it
but because we create it
small rains are now hurricanes
because we failed to repair the damage done when the damage was manageable
we failed to board our feelings to brace for the coming torrential
we are damaged
being carried by a current on temporary slacks that will not sustain us
and from a distance we hear that another storm is coming
but we don’t evacuate because home where our heart is
So we stay
and drown each other in the rising flood waters of our own discontent
With no relief in sight.

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