she spends the majority of her time in the dusty ignored shadows of the storm,
while you get to live in the warm exuberant sunshine.
It's really an unfair thing you see, while you get flooded with smiles and emotions that
wrap around you like cashmere, she gets tears and itches from wool she can't scratch.
She imitates you like a child, but she can't figure out how you can't discover how
you break her day after day. She can't keep you puzzled together while trying to fix
herself instantaneously.
She would break you off from her heart, but the cracks that you would
leave would be detrimental and ultimately lead to her demise.
So here she sits, surrounded by your dust bunnies wearing an
ugly wool sweater wishing you'd change.
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