A Little Song

A world begins with separation. It begins with parting one thing from another; it begins with a boundary line being drawn up like the marking of the horizon by the rising sun, spelling out the perceived difference between two things.

So it comes as no surprise that she’d want to build her own world that’s separate from all which doesn’t belong to her, because in such a world, she can finally feel comfortable, like she’s home. (And it is home, because it’s her world, and there’s no one that can tell her otherwise.) She just wants a place to call her own; a place she doesn’t have to share or feel obligated to do so.

There’s something inherently small about building worlds, yet it’s found even in the biggest of hearts. There’s not enough room for everything and everyone, and she’s long accepted this fact. So she draws her lines in the sand, and watches as they settle into stone.

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