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“storm” by Rebekah McKenna

Strands of her golden hair blowing in the wind,
She’s yearning for peace, convinced she’ll never feel that way again,
The sun shines on her, reminding her how bright she is, how warm she is, how indomitable she is,
no matter the storm.
She doesn’t feel warm,
She feels weak,
out of control.
The wind seems harsher now.
Memories storming around in her head,
The voices booming, hands striking, tears pouring,
The sun is no longer a source of warmth, but a reminder that each day the sun sets, and the darkness reveals itself
In the form of longing
For love
For security
For a different hand of cards
For brothers and sisters lost
For just one more chance.
The wind comes to a stop.
She opens her eyes
She survived the storms.

She felt warm again.