Life as a Storm
By Bethany Bowersox
Sometimes I feel like a raindrop,
High up in the clouds just waiting to come down.
Sometimes I feel like a snowflake,
Making a gentle landing,
But causing others to slip and slide.
Sometimes I feel like a hailstone,
Heavy and burdened by ice,
As I hit the ground with full force.
Sometimes I feel like a lightning bolt,
Building up electricity, ready to unleash my power.
Sometimes I feel like thunder,
Ready to shake the ground and make myself heard.
Sometimes I feel like the wind,
Quiet and gentle, but loud and destructive at times.
Sometimes I feel like a tornado,
My life spinning out of control, going down one path, then down another.
Sometimes I feel like a hurricane,
Blowing everyone away then calming down again.
I am the storm.
My feelings, my flaws, my life.
I unleash all the elements, both gentle and destructive.
I rage, but then a calmness comes over me.
I am the eye of my own storm.
High up in the clouds just waiting to come down.
Sometimes I feel like a snowflake,
Making a gentle landing,
But causing others to slip and slide.
Sometimes I feel like a hailstone,
Heavy and burdened by ice,
As I hit the ground with full force.
Sometimes I feel like a lightning bolt,
Building up electricity, ready to unleash my power.
Sometimes I feel like thunder,
Ready to shake the ground and make myself heard.
Sometimes I feel like the wind,
Quiet and gentle, but loud and destructive at times.
Sometimes I feel like a tornado,
My life spinning out of control, going down one path, then down another.
Sometimes I feel like a hurricane,
Blowing everyone away then calming down again.
I am the storm.
My feelings, my flaws, my life.
I unleash all the elements, both gentle and destructive.
I rage, but then a calmness comes over me.
I am the eye of my own storm.
Sweet Vodka Dreams
By Bethany Bowersox
I guess I had one too many last night.
I woke up on the floor.
Head spinning, stomach churning,
Yet I yearn for more.
I want to feel the burn.
That clear, tasteless warmth
Running down the back of my throat.
It’s a feeling of bliss.
It’s beautiful.
I want to feel the rush.
The energy, the passion, the happiness.
It’s like I’m gone for a moment.
Gone to the place where
All my troubles disappear.
No more pain, suffering,
Loneliness or hopelessness.
It’s just me and the burn.
Of course it’s only temporary,
But it’s relief.
When life gets harsh
I break out the bottle again.
It’s my only constant in a world
Of change.
I just sit back,
Drink,
And let the vodka carry me away.
I woke up on the floor.
Head spinning, stomach churning,
Yet I yearn for more.
I want to feel the burn.
That clear, tasteless warmth
Running down the back of my throat.
It’s a feeling of bliss.
It’s beautiful.
I want to feel the rush.
The energy, the passion, the happiness.
It’s like I’m gone for a moment.
Gone to the place where
All my troubles disappear.
No more pain, suffering,
Loneliness or hopelessness.
It’s just me and the burn.
Of course it’s only temporary,
But it’s relief.
When life gets harsh
I break out the bottle again.
It’s my only constant in a world
Of change.
I just sit back,
Drink,
And let the vodka carry me away.
About the Author
My name is Bethany Bowersox. I am a senior at Cal majoring in Geographic Information Systems/Emergency Management. A fun fact about me that I am in the process of writing my first poetry book entitled Life in Free Verse.