Natural Disaster

Natural Disaster

Kim Salac
Media Staff

you could say I’m a disaster


I swept you up in my cyclone. my chaos

scrambled the contents of your life in that quiet Kansas town

and spit you back out on yellow-bricked ground.


I don’t know much about anything

except how it felt to be your mess.


when you used to say my name,

lightning coursed through my veins.


back then you were a shock to my system;

now remembering you is a slow burn


and I’m almost ashes     I’m

a disaster.


but I’ve never been a natural.


I try and I try and

sometimes I succeed


then the aftershock of you leaving

sends a tidal wave of guilt over me.


I’d never seen water take the shape of a wall

I thought only I put those up and you almost made me fall


but my storm needed no coaxing at all

before it came crashing         










and your ghost came in with the rain.