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In the morning
The sky
Is so beautiful.
The wind
sways the trees
And urges me
to dance.
The sun's rays
Shine with clarity
And the birds' songs
Invite the light.

I am at peace.

So.. I can be.

But,

Sometimes...

Swiftly...

Do you hear it?
There's a whispering...
Don't listen.
It's a trap.
There's no way.
There's no chance.

There it is again,
That fear.
The storm -
Here it comes.
Buckle down.
Id better hide.
Quick, try.
Before it sweeps
Me up too high...

But it's got my mind.
It's here.
Strong and loud,
This time.
And not slowly, but
Instantly, It
Sweeps,
Me,
Up.

I am thrown in.
I am lost within
A black space
With no boundary.
I can't find the edge.
And I've forgotten,
How,
To function.

I scream.
I collapse.
I cry.
I destroy.
I despise
Every bit
of myself.
And, still
I can't find
The way out of here.

The storm -
It thrusts
And sways.
Unsettles
And circulates.
Until it
Can no longer
Keep up
With demands.

The perpetual motion
Slows down,
And the winds
Begin to calm.
But the black
Smokey fog
Doesn't leave...

The dust
begins to settle
On top packages
Of self doubt,
Shame,
Guilt,
And worthlessness.

Then without warning
Gravity pulls me
Back
Into my body.
And in silence,
I am left,
Sifting through
What remains of me...
Shattered sorrow
Tired eyes, and
No light that I can see.

...

I am so angry
Because
The sky
Was so beautiful today.
And so was I.
But I wasn't bigger
Than the storm.

Not this time.

• Mica Light •
This poem reflects how my morning can go into a complete hell so quickly, I dont know how I even got there.

— The End —