Exist

When I pressed my hands against the panes drenched with sunlight, I felt cold clasp my hand in a familiar embrace.
And I thought:

I have very faint memories of before. The only existence I know now is the one I was given.
An echo of what used to be.

Now, it's hard to exist when the world is giving me a manual of perfection.

But,
I dare to live, to be vibrant, to shine with all my heart and with all my might.
And when I die, as I inevitably will, I shall shatter into diamonds.
And people will see that it was what I was made of.


"We were both alone, both existing as the absence of something else."
- Tahereh Mafi, Shatter Me

11 comments:

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