My Own Storm
Teary nights since the age of 5,
the thunderstorm never seem to end
as the air swirls around me and rips out my heart gently,
scissoring at each string of reason that held me,
I sometimes see colors and a bright light and think its the calm after the storm,
but not sure it exist anymore.
My fear keeps me in the middle afraid to get struck by lightning,
Terrified to feel something again.
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