Fears of shame and inadequacy, plaguing the storm of the loud mind and the quiet face. The end of the storm waits quietly in the ocean of her insides, twisting and turning and raining at will. Waiting on a moment to destroy anything in its path. But she holds it together, keeping the storm together within the levees of her heart and mind. All it takes is one thing to poke or hole or pull a sandbag and the floods will come spilling out. The weight won’t be so heavy but it makes for certain destruction. No matter how soft or hard the water comes, it’s treacherous.