#0038. The littlest things crush me. Under the weight of it, I surrender. Little fragility, that's what does it. I see things innocent and pure and their inevitable torture at the hands of Life just crushes me. Fragility. Little wings. Little eyes. The thing chirps out a beautiful song. Something larger, soon, will cripple it, slit its tiny throat. I want to hold it and provide it some sort of armor from Life. But there's too much of it and I am as helpless as they are.
No comments:
Post a Comment