sand

you break me with every word you don’t speak, with every question you don’t ask. those you do not answer do less damage. every minute you decide to spend away crunches me down to ever smaller bits until i’m sand.

you could put me in a mold and give me any shape you’d like and even then you wouldn’t want me. because you want perfection and i’m just sand.

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~ by mirale on September 6, 2017.

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