Four Years Of A Feeling

Four years of a feeling.

A chaos without pause.

Each day waking up,

hoping the world would still be there.

And it was.

Four years later

and the feeling returns,

and I realized something today:

I made that feeling for myself

every morning.

A fresh cup of grief.

A warm bowl of panic.

A slice of powdered terror.

Way back when.

Nobody did it for me.

No system.

No authority.

No agenda.

And I decided today,

regardless of what happens next,

I wasn’t making that feeling

anymore.