Tell me... why don’t we embrace our failures the way we embrace the very last drop of toothpaste on a Sunday morning.
We hide them away in a dungeon underneath scars and childhood scabs.
They rot, and our rancid minds forget.
We only want to remember the loveliest of days, and the muggy days that enveloped us.
We want to be trapped in happiness, like a star getting almost as big as the sun.
We grow and blossom, and when it’s time to look back on how we bubbled up, we only think of star studded nights, and awarding sunsets.
No one thanks their scars and impatience, no one thinks about their scars and childhood scabs.
No one dares to mention their dungeons, filled to the brim with failure and disappointment.
Why do we paint our lives as ice cream filled summer rainbows.
Tell me why no one remembers the rain before the rainbow.