you're the girl who's heart has been broken so many times that it's in so many infinitesimal pieces. and over the years, it's been scattered with the wind and left in many imaginably different places. some, on never-ending steps leading up to the darkest locked rooms, some, lodged deep inside people and fused with their flesh and bones.

one day, you will pluck up the courage the size of a mustard seed, to stop waiting for someone to save you.

one moment you'll be in india, tasting all sorts of spices, tears in your eyes. next moment you'll be in france, watching the sky turn dark. you'll take a picture of yourself amidst a backdrop of blurry people and bits and pieces of conversation will go by, like, "...a moth burned itself to death in a candle flame..." (from time to time you'll pause and think to yourself, "now that's interesting...") and you'll pick up pieces of yourself each and every little step along the way.