she saw life through the frame of a broken picture buried in the ashes of her sister. And life was an empty box; with nothing to hold and nothing to gain so she sets her heart inside; watching it crumble as she cries.
'Tis the season to shovel enormous amounts of watermelon into your mouth while hunched over the cutting board like a dehydrated vampire that hasn't fed on blood in four hundred years and the only viable substitute is this questionable Christmas-colored fruit. — Ari11