Dear sweet child of death,
the way the light shines in your eyes, even on a day like this, when the clouds look like bad milk spilled all over the floor and the sun looks like a piece of blur hiding behind mother’s shawl — too bothered to come out, too bothered by its own heat,
I envy you.
oh! how I envy you, the way you can detach yourself from the world around you and look down upon everyone in a third person view,
how I envy you, and your eyes, that can hold the burden of light, even on a day like this!
whilst others are relishing in weightless tears, you, sweet child, are drinking it all with a smile that only death can bear.
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