The words were on the tip of her tongue. She was afraid that if she started to express them into coherent logical thoughts, they’d evolve into a literal storm. She was angry, she was dormant like a volcano about to implode and destroy everything in its path. So, she tamed her emotions, harnessed them into seeds of positivity, let them grow into actions of love towards herself. But she was growing tiresome of putting out any inkling of a fire. She was restless of its predictable pattern of destruction and continuously checking its temperature to manage, to control.

Her life in the past six weeks had become an emotional roller coaster. The highs were lovely, and the lows were borderline devastating. She showered in motivation more than she bathed in water. She developed an armour of steel to prevent her essence that she was building from getting lost. She spoke in simpler sentences instead of even attempting the more complex thoughts that buzzed, constantly. They wouldn’t sleep, not even when everything else was. They’d ruminate, gather dust, pollute the sanitary mind space she was cultivating.


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