in the absence of the sun

Reality smokes about a thousand packs of them a day, never pausing to consider what opportunities he would have if he quit, what the world would become if he wasn’t addicted to lighting them up only to inhale one puff and then stub them out, reaching for another to waste because each new one is more fresh than the last ​​​​​ -our dreams

And then I see the fallen ones and it makes me wonder if they were knocked down or if they didn’t have the strength to stay rooted to the ground ​​​​​ -I understand now that some roots are just too weak

Thank you for being my armor ​​​​​ even on the days when my battle cry was “it’s impossible”

Empathy tugs lightly on my shirt sleeve and gently whispers in my ear, “they are struggling too”

There will always be a loose screw or an uneven floorboard ​​​​​ -there is no such thing as a perfect life

I live among the hardcovers stacked in piles higher than Everest because it is easier to feel through fictional characters the loss the love the heartbreak the tragedy it all comes at once and then it is gone with the close of the cover ​​​​​ -from the comfort of my bedroom

You fear the damage they could do if you let them know your secrets ​​​​​ -why you push them away

Do you know what it feels like to wait patiently for love when you know how many never even receive it? ​​​​​ I do

Irony: friends sitting together with screens shoved between their faces complaining about the weak connection

It is a monstrous noise ​​​​​ -silence