Kindness in faces of familiarity are the most dangerous to love.
They morph so easily into a splatter.
And it’s terrifying to know what it looks like.
How I wish they knew the love I held for them. How I wish I could have done more.
I would have been every sun and soft emotion. I would have been the deepest pocket of the ocean, to be the sanctum of summer tears - hid and frozen. I would have been the steadiest mountain to stay strong against every growing tide. And if I had known that they would fall for heaven that day, then I would have been every fabric of their parachute. I would have been everything I wasn't.
But now I am nothing,
but a funeral suit.
- The madness of grief
















