While you’re out there, counting the number of life events you could have subtracted and the number of friendships you could have added in the hope of brighter days, don’t forget that you could possibly have burnt out from the constant sunshine. Some of us thrive in our little terrariums, safe within walls that prevent that extra ray of sunshine from scorching from our bodies, full of resilience like water brimming in succulents.

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After math 

You ask me how are you? 
I want to answer I am the  after math of you talking about loving me with a mouthful of leaving. But all I reply is a thousand little things which don’t catch your attention.

I say I want to hug you. 
But the truth is it’s just arms locked in losing and permanent smiles that don’t fade easily.  

I say I’m used to the cold, and these odd digits make me feel hot in spring. But I’m just cold from Frozen nothing’s of your silence. 

What a beautiful house you make out of longing. But darling it’s just windowless rooms of pain. 

I say I am numb. But it’s a burden to feel the razor sharp cuts of all these fragments of our present.