she asks herself and asks again. as her voice breaks like floral porcelains, she picks up the pieces. it hurts, it takes time. for the little pieces perforates and sinks into the hands like the painful memories. there she pulls the shards and plaster the wound. silence reminds her that she has been here before and how the plates has a habit of wilting on the kitchen floor.
he asks himself and ask again. should his words stutter, he picks the syllables from rhythm of his tone and let the syntax skid across his tongue like the pebbles he used to throw. as it dances across the ripple of the lake, he is reminded that the river need not look for the sea, but each meander finds its route. unless it is caught up in the drought or defied by the dam- a perfect enmity between nature and man.
ask themselves and ask again. should their actions decide to part itself into two- where one self has no idea of what the ideal self will do. they smile and affirm in front of the mirror and find solace in the things that they cannot change and accept that growth needs light. light transpose and once it shows, they will see the things that need change.
but ask and ask again.
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