So darling, pick up those pieces and make something beautiful out of them because you can. You might have to bake them hot to rejoin them but trust me, it’s worth it.
Once I was the sun. The sun that burnt so bright it lit up everyone’s sky. The sun ran out of fuel. The sun that died under its own weight. The sun that sucks on the light of others now. The sun is now a black hole, itself.
I push people away because I’m afraid if I get hurt, I might not heal again. I push them so away. I paint my walls so good they can’t recognize me anymore. I don’t give people a chance.
Don’t be afraid to love all your broken pieces. They will finally wether with the waters of ages, shrinking into friendly gemlike pebbles that are soft to your soul.
