There is always a story of you that misses you.
Like a nagging bell in the silence of an early morning craving for you to wake up and you don’t want to.
We easily recognize the bell for its annoyance, but often miss the silence for not masking the wake-up call.
The silence surrendered itself too easily, so we walk over it like a carpet so worn out you can see its threads.
Threads weaved in a tapestry of colors, dust, and forgetting as if the doors opened one day and never closed for it to take a break.
We wash away everyday in this forgetfulness not asking if the door can close to make way for the threads to be repaired on the silence of a bell masked by the loud chatter of our stories.
We miss one to create another one for in the omission of each lives our life, wandering like a stranger, telling stories and forgetting it’s a wanderer in the silence of a dusty carpet washed away by the threads of time.
Until the next ❤️ beat ~.~.~
🔔✍️👌
Lovely 🙏