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I鈥檓 trying to write something positive in the middle of darkness 馃寵
I don鈥檛 know if these are tests, accidents, or bad luck.
What I know is, I鈥檓 tired. Most storms, I face alone.
Even when I dry off, I get sick.
How do we carry life鈥檚 weight?
Is it okay to feel this way?
Do I deserve it? Or is this just life?
I search for answers, maybe to know if it鈥檚 fate or chance.
I鈥檓 grateful these storms haven鈥檛 destroyed my home.
Still, I wonder: when will the sun come?
Maybe I must go through this to earn it.
Sometimes my purpose shakes.
I forget the path.
No one can guide me if I don鈥檛 want to move.
Right now, I feel alone.
I鈥檓 on a packed train.
Everyone鈥檚 escaping in their own way.
I want to too, but don鈥檛.
I choose to feel. I choose to write.
I get angry. I overthink.
Alone, I feel like a mountain stone; cold, numb.
But stones don鈥檛 grow.
I鈥檇 rather be a tree; fragile, slow,
but trying to give shade
I breathe. I keep going
I say: don鈥檛 give up
While the river flows, so can you 5 replies
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