You are a drop of perfect in an imperfect world. And all I need , is a taste.

The sun still, surprisingly, came up and shone down onto the cold, metal leftovers. No loud noises. No screams. No breaking glass. Just silence and sunshine. You would be forgiven for thinking that this all happened on another planet. It didn’t.

Being gifted doesn’t mean you’ve been given something. It means, you have something to give.

The little things you forget, kill me.

You’re just another story I can’t tell anymore.

There are only so many of us born at a time and we are thrown into the world to find each other, to find the other ones who don't think you're strange, who understand your jokes, your smile, the way you talk.

There are only so many of us born at a time and we only have so long to find each other before we die.

But we have to try.