Mud

I wake up with that familiar heaviness
My body pushes through the muddy past
Trying to find the surface so I can breath
I push, but there's only more mud

I slip down, and then decide to just sit in the mud for a while
It is familiar and warm
but it is heavy
And I'm too tired to carry anything heavy anymore

This place that I'm in, I used to think of as
the past
But it's not
It's the present
And on many occasions, the mud isn't here
But today, it is
The rain came down hard, 5 inches at once
And instead of washing things clean
Created mud puddles
I'm pretty good at dancing around them

But when I see someone else dodging them,
And getting mud on themselves
I get this feeling of guilt
Because I somehow, feel like I made the mud

Its odd that mud is simply dry dirt with water added.
As long as it was dry dirt, I could stomp around
But the rain came, when I prayed for a way out

Yes, I had a boat, and I sailed away.
But the rain came, the torments, the tornadoes
The wind, the hail

Storms that created damage to everything it hit.
Hurricanes get names
But this storm didn't get one
If I could name it....

Basher, Crasher, Smasher
Tormentor, Terrorist
Definitive Disaster
Blasting Blight
Washout

When you see an animal back away from something, squinting it's eyes
You know that it sees danger
With its body crouched down and the tail tucked
Its clear what they are feeling

When you see that same response in a child
It hurts to the core
Because you remember that feeling
And maybe the child is stronger than you were
Nevertheless
Your stomach is in a knot
Recalling the storm that ripped around your house for years
And sucked your children out windows that weren't even open

They smiled, thinking it was a ride
But now you see the scars
No one speaks of the tornado
It's like the pink elephant in the room

We must still tip-toe around it
For a little while longer

And when the child comes to me
I will be here
To hold them, wipe a tear, laugh, cry, look at a sunset
or listen to a song