The tent is just nylon trying to protect us,
but every gust of wind and every cold moment reminds me that nothing truly protects anyone here.
I hold the nylon in my hands and wish it could stand, could endure,
but my heart knows the truth… any coming rain could drown us mercilessly,
and the cold will not be limited to our bodies… it will reach everything inside us 💔
The air has grown cold… and winter is approaching.
I sit here in the tent, feeling the harshness of the cold seeping into everything around me, as if it enters my soul before my body.
Fear fills my heart… not just of the cold,
but of the days to come, of the rain that will inevitably arrive,
and of the tent we are in, fragile… it will not protect us,
that the water could overwhelm us, and we might drown within its fragility, and that each passing moment will only increase our suffering here.🥺💔