It is quiet.

It is calm.

It is clean.

It is orderly.


A feast for the eyes.

A pleasure for the senses.

A lovely aroma.

A delight for the soul.


Is it the real deal? I wonder.


I scratch the surface.

I look into the closet.

I peek under the rug.

I perceive double standards.


Is this perfection a mere veneer? I wonder.


I think the tranquil atmosphere is deceptive.

It is the calm before the storm.

It is darkest before dawn.

The deepest wounds are numb.


Let it explode.

Let out the captive mind.

Let the skeletons fall out of the closet.

Let the abscess burst from the dormant wound.


The only way out is through the dreaded pathway.

The only way to heal is to confront the pain in its gruesome glory.

The only way to thrive is to face the storm head-on.

The only way up is moving forward a step at a time.


Rebuild again.

Keep it real.

It may not be perfect.

It is authentic and alive.


So, let the hurricane ravage in all its majesty.

Fear not for you will rise again.

You will come out better and stronger.

You have grown through your pain.