"You can be mad as a mad dog"

It's like I'm not mad any more.

Not sad any more.

It all feels like past tense.

Because it is.

I am sure I will "come to terms" with these various events again and again.

All of the emotions all at once like the ocean.

Then it is past tense again.

And a new day has dawned.

The warm sun on my skin. The crunchy grass. The puffy clouds that shapes can be made out of.

"You can mad as a mad dog at the way things went. You could swear, curse the fates, but when it comes to the end, you have to let go."

I will always feel the waves of deaths touch.

I just need to wave back.