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Metaphoric
He was an earthquake.
His words like shifted tectonic plates beneath Earth’s surface.
Buried and buried, the slightest shift and they would collide.
They would slip, and thrust.
His tears like falling debris.
The cracks on the pavement are his hands
From mending everyone’s troubles and neglecting his own.
The objects falling and crashing within the people’s homes is their karma.
Karma from thankless nights and selfishness.
He ended with a magnitude of 6.5.
Impacting others in a different way than what he was used to.
He had made his point.
And he…was an earthquake.
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