You know, I’m fine.
In the eye of your storm, I breathe…
I watch the walls closing in,
Threatening, relentless, testing my skin.
But for now, the air is still—
A moment to gather, to steady my will,
Bracing for the next wave.
I call for help,
Though I don’t think I need it.
Left with myself, I craft a plan.
It feels worthless,
But at least it keeps me moving.
I pray…
But doubt whispers: Am I broken enough for God to care?
Desperate, yet too unsure to act.
I write…
Because time was given to me.
I use it to send a message to my struggling self:
It will be alright.
It will be alright.
I talk to myself…
Caught between two storms,
One past, one to come,
Stretching into infinity.
But hey…
Don’t worry. I’ve survived.
I am loved.
This is a test.
I am tossed around to see life’s many sides.
I am broken open to let the poison flow out.
I am suffocated so I can cherish each breath.
I am haunted to understand and face my fears.
I am abandoned to value the love I still have.
Some lives are cast into the shadows of despair,
Yet they rise with a hunger for life.
A hunger stronger than any storm.
A force that moves mountains, spins the Earth,
And shapes the fates of humanity.
Even as the walls close in,
I doubt my strength—
Can I face this storm again?
And again?
But I remember…
I wrote this crying,
A manifesto of survival in the storm’s eye.
I was okay.
I will be okay again.
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