I of the Storm

If only we could know the terror of being in the eye of the storm
before chasing it

If only we could experience the nausea
before diving into the feast

If only we could feel the the pain of rejection
before speaking one’s mind

If only we could feel the stab of betrayal
before running into the embrace

If only we could smell the stench of death
before being seduced by its anesthetic effect

How different life would be
if only I could

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