Waking up after a restful deep sleep. Birdsongs, cold autumnal air rushing in through the wide open window.
First thoughts forming, images whirling around, slowly coming to settle on a more coherent concept:
This is not my fault.
I am not fragile.
I am not delicate.
But there is something very very fragile and delicate inside of me.
Careful, careful.
The vast blue sky.
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