We wont always be this pretty.
This wont always hurt so much.
I have seen better days, but have they seen me?
I told a good friend over a long distance call as the space crackled between us that the only choice she had was to pick her self up, had I called myself?
It’s easy to point and blame when your the one on the ground.
At least the days seem longer, like they listened to my pleas to slow down.
Why now, I’m not sure.
And we’re all still here and still healthy and still alive and still pretty.