I remember things in snapshots
I remember the torn seams and threads coming out

It worries me how fast things unravel

You are both separate and intact

The distance we have sewn together is so thin, we must realize that things come apart on their own

Everything has its own texture and hue of colour

I dream of having unbroken thread between my fingers

Though at times I wish to undo what I have made or said

Sometimes I just want recognition instead of natural silence

I want voices to chime in my ears, even when the snow falls and I refuse to listen