A tornado flew around my room. It was me. Tornado Teresa. No one could stop me, I wouldn’t let it, because this is the coping mechanism that I still haven’t been able to let go of.Why? This overwhelming fear of failure I’ve been carrying for so long. The fear that I am nothing without my tornado skirt. Made of tule that sparkles and has star shaped sequins and knocks glasses of the tables and leaves boys and girls wondering what’s underneath.
Maybe nothing would happen if I were to stop. Maybe I would feel calm and peaceful but I don’t know so I can’t.
I’ll keep spinning until I’m tired.