I'm not going through a blind seated panic right now; my interactions with others have kept those waves at bay.
But they cannot be my beacons and they cannot make this okay.
I'm sitting on my couch, my boat during this hurricane, as the gail force grief battles to overtake me. I cannot see through the ever-falling sheets of sorrow and I may have just sprung a leak.
The storm is flooding in through cracks and I'm like the captain of a sinking boat; I'm resigned to go down with this ship
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