by Ria Chaudhary
Art by Caroline Wang
Issue: Ataraxia (Spring 2018)

A person's face is split in half, the left in darkness and the right in light.

it’s storm season.

ink flows like a flood
through classrooms and bedrooms and houses,
stealing sleep and disturbing peace.

moods and hopes darken
in tandem with the rain-filled clouds.
the skies are darker than you can ever remember them being.

the sudden, rushing realization
like a downpour of rain
that you don’t have enough time,
that you don’t know enough,
that maybe you aren’t enough.

you drown under the weight of expectation, sitting between your ribs,
making it harder and harder to breathe as you wait for your judgement,
for the words that may bring you to the eye of the storm
or deeper into the fray.

but seasons change,
and storms calm down.
and the rain leaves
a more beautiful world in its wake.

you are left with the sense that among all that torrent,
something beautiful bloomed.
and you are still here.
exhausted, maybe,
challenged, yes.
but alive.