Talkin' to God like that, singin' to The Lord, like I sing to Him in Church actually helps some, the fear in my gut turin' inta a dull ache. It ain't as scary if you don't think of nothin' bad.
After tourin' a few dark rooms of the house- I give up on findin' daddy and jus' sit by myself in the kitchen- watchin' the great storm take place righ' outside the window. Streaks of lightin' still come from the Heavens, echoed by that loud thunder- perhaps God's voice. But after singin' my songs- I don't think it me that God mad at. 'Else he wouldn't 'ave been able to comfort me so.
The wind ain't as strong as it had once been- the whole thin' seemin' to pass righ' on through. As time goes by- the lightnin' ain't as bright- the thunder ain't as deep. Slowly- the storm is dyin' down.
When the rain jus' a trickle, I move from my spot in the kitchen- workin' my way up them carpeted stairs, I had jus' slept- but I still tired enough to do it again.
My bed is a comfort to me- the last sounds of a deadly storm lullin' me to sleep. But instead of dreamin'- I lay half awake. Part of me is in the real world- watchin' my window- feelin' the soft edges of my blanket. But then a part of me sees Samuel, his voice dead underneath crumbled tears as he sits outside- dyin' in the storm.
When I try an' reach him- help 'em- he runs faraway- screamin' fo' me to stay away, far away. An' jus' as I can't see him no more- as he's crawlin' into the darkness- I jump back in my room- feelin' the soft sheets beneath my skin, tastin' the dry air in my mouth. An' then it's back to Samuel- the same scene over,
Before I kno' it- I hear Mary callin' my name- sayin' somethin' 'bout breakfast. I sit up- rubbin' the sleep outa my eyes. It didn't feel like I was ever asleep at all- but perhaps I was. Perhaps Samuel was jus' in my dreams. My body- an' my mind jus' didn't feel it.
"Corinne- you holdin' up the whole family."
I still in my dress from yesterday- I guess it was- still seems like today- so I don't bother changin'. There ain't no point in it really. But I do brush my hair out- clippin' the half-dead curls to the crown of my head. It ain't much of a pretty look- but I ain't goin' fo' that. There ain't no one here that I wanna- or gotta look pretty fo'.
I can't help but peak out my window-see the results of the great winds and lightin'. I can't see my tree from here- but I do hope it ain't broken like the rest of the world outside.
After tourin' a few dark rooms of the house- I give up on findin' daddy and jus' sit by myself in the kitchen- watchin' the great storm take place righ' outside the window. Streaks of lightin' still come from the Heavens, echoed by that loud thunder- perhaps God's voice. But after singin' my songs- I don't think it me that God mad at. 'Else he wouldn't 'ave been able to comfort me so.
The wind ain't as strong as it had once been- the whole thin' seemin' to pass righ' on through. As time goes by- the lightnin' ain't as bright- the thunder ain't as deep. Slowly- the storm is dyin' down.
When the rain jus' a trickle, I move from my spot in the kitchen- workin' my way up them carpeted stairs, I had jus' slept- but I still tired enough to do it again.
My bed is a comfort to me- the last sounds of a deadly storm lullin' me to sleep. But instead of dreamin'- I lay half awake. Part of me is in the real world- watchin' my window- feelin' the soft edges of my blanket. But then a part of me sees Samuel, his voice dead underneath crumbled tears as he sits outside- dyin' in the storm.
When I try an' reach him- help 'em- he runs faraway- screamin' fo' me to stay away, far away. An' jus' as I can't see him no more- as he's crawlin' into the darkness- I jump back in my room- feelin' the soft sheets beneath my skin, tastin' the dry air in my mouth. An' then it's back to Samuel- the same scene over,
Before I kno' it- I hear Mary callin' my name- sayin' somethin' 'bout breakfast. I sit up- rubbin' the sleep outa my eyes. It didn't feel like I was ever asleep at all- but perhaps I was. Perhaps Samuel was jus' in my dreams. My body- an' my mind jus' didn't feel it.
"Corinne- you holdin' up the whole family."
I still in my dress from yesterday- I guess it was- still seems like today- so I don't bother changin'. There ain't no point in it really. But I do brush my hair out- clippin' the half-dead curls to the crown of my head. It ain't much of a pretty look- but I ain't goin' fo' that. There ain't no one here that I wanna- or gotta look pretty fo'.
I can't help but peak out my window-see the results of the great winds and lightin'. I can't see my tree from here- but I do hope it ain't broken like the rest of the world outside.
