Some days are sunlit,
clouds whisk smirks and grass collects tear drops.
Some days crash with downpour,
oceans clashing with windy confines,
and I've confirmed I'm fine,
but I'm really not.
Some days are frigid,
snowing in flooded cheeks,
check the numbness pierce through your coating.
Some days are arid,
deserted and alone,
lifeless in barren shells,
as lips crack and skin burns
we'll never learn to avoid the weather.
Some days are terrifying,
testifying that it's not me,
hearing things that aren't real,
seeing things I can't feel,
it's more than luminous bat eyes and owl hoots tonight,
we're too naive to live,
and some of us can't thrive through this.
Recruiters that lived grew the most damaged,
swirling our fingers in the sand,
as we watch the ones who
faulted in resilience get eaten
alive by the fear of
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