maybe the reason we wake up with hearts intact only to fall asleep with them dented is: one day when the latest imperfection is hammered in by clumsy hands we can look at the scratched golden surface to see its been molded into something else. something beyond, something beautiful. and to see the smudged fingerprints of everyone who has touched that heart. to know that they live, and you live, and will continue to. to march onwards. to let the smallest light shine and reflect on that heart and push away just a little bit of the darkness. just enough to see each others faces and smile. to find each others hands in the dark.one day i will make everyones hearts glow for even just a moment and the darkness will clear. and we will see the beautiful place we are in.
dear god, dear songs, dear words, dear loves: this is what i believe in.
the secret language of crickets
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