Trash

You are everything but invisible. I can see you wide and clear, I can hear you loud and easy. I can touch you all and cold. I can hold you warm and cozy. You are everything but invisible. You are not amazing; you have your flaws. I didn’t expect you to be amazing and flawless at all. You are a mess, a big mess. But not invisible. Can you believe that? can you believe that I can love you and see you? I can see you. I don’t choose to ignore you.

 A giant pile of mess.

Two days old orange peels, your clipped nails, your plants’ dries leaves, your crumbled paper with your attempt to write something meaningful, your period pads, your tears-soaked napkins, A huge rotting piece of mess. That is foul and rotting away. Smells like rotten eggs. That is what you are but not invisible. You are not invisible. Don’t try to slit your wrists, stage your own death, lay on the floor for me to notice you. I already do. 

I see you. You are not invisible. 

Can you understand that?  Can you believe that? Can you believe that I see you and your mess? I will take out this trash every day. Can you believe that? I see you. A huge pile of mess but I see you. Do you see me?

I think in the end the whole of life becomes the act of letting go. You, a huge pile of trash, I won’t.

. . .

 I am told -

 U might be in a trash place. A Gold coin would also become trash in a trash can :)

 Doesn't mean it's not gold

Sona :)

 

And I say -

Thank you for saying that