Storm.

There is something so oddly comforting about the storm. As the trees swing around mercilessly in the air and the pouring rain leaves imprints everywhere. I lay in the dark listening to it uproar, wrapped up in blanket, safe and sound. I guess that is why it’s so oddly comforting; the fact that it’s a raging storm outside and I’m inside safely battling my own inner storms.

Sometimes it feels like my inner storm has manifested itself in more of a physical form. For a change, it’s not only in the inside. It’s there; in its realist form, manifesting itself to the outside world. I want to scream; “see this is how I feel, this is how it destroys me”. I want to scream and let them know.

The rain pours and pours with it the thunder bolts rips the sky open. This is how I feel. Like something rips open my chest with its bare hands.

The leaves rustle as though screaming for escape. This is how I feel. Struggling to find freedom as everything around me does it best to hold me down.

Flashes of lightning illuminates the dark in my room, curtains blow away with the wind and the air becomes chillier with each passing second, so I tightly wrap the blanket around me.

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