I am

I am a series of words
Hold no soul.
Grip on self.
Staggered.

I am a whirlwind of emotions.
Born from turbulence.
Hold no core.
Destructive.

I am a series of thoughts.
Where’s the escape?
Where’s the embrace?
Tell me.

I am a series of words.
Misinterpreted.
Lose its value.
A history.

I am a gaping hole.
Throbbing.
Hollow.
Heal me.

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Afternoon

Today afternoon is quiet and nice, despite the storm and all.
Yesterday afternoon was quiet and nice, despite the emptiness and all.
Last week afternoon was quiet and nice, despite the uneasiness and all.
Last month afternoon was quiet and nice, despite the fear and all.
Last year afternoon was gleeful and fun, despite the exhaustion and all.

Nine years ago, the afternoon was calm and peaceful, within the mourn and all.
Ten years ago, the afternoon was bright and full of laughter, without the fear of losing and all.
Eleven years ago, the afternoon was just the afternoon, without anyone recognized it passed.
Twelve years ago, the afternoon was forgotten, memory secluded behind hazy barrier.
Thirteen years ago, nothing could be memorized.

Takes time for granted, they say.
Today 11:00 a.m. isn’t the same as yesterday’s 11:00 a.m.
Last year 14:00 p.m. will not happen again at today 14:00 p.m, or at any other time in the future.
Today’s bliss belongs to today.
Last year’s bliss belongs to last year.
So does its mourn. So do its tears.
While it’s happening, takes them for granted.
Feel them. Memorize them. Embrace them.
For it wouldn’t happen again in the future.
Acknowledge their existence.
For it only happened once.

Today afternoon is quiet and nice, despite the storm and all.
The storm starts brewing and ready to wreck everything on its way.
I feel. I memorize. I embrace.
I acknowledge the storm.