Do you hear the violins? They are weeping and you are sleeping.

The taste of charcoal fell upon my tongue whenever the rain drops fell down upon the rooftops. “Why is the light always grey?”, I asked. No one ever answers me. Maybe because grey was what everyone felt when the cold rust sets deep into our bones. “I’ll look away”, I said. “I’ll look away.” That’s the only thing you’re good at anyways my brain told me bitterly. Then, the light turned white like the teeth of my childhood smiles and for once, I looked up. And I thought out loud;

"Maybe I should do this more often."

It's easier to understand things when you let your heart be broken instead of fighting against what is already happening.

Don't you know?

I didn't.

But I do know.

You should too.

I hope you will know soon.