Tags: beauty-and-sadness
Later when I thought of the chickens, one of those rare pale blue eggs rose up into my throat. The chickens had been part of our family, and the egg in my throat was the feeling of something missing. It was hard and smooth and heavy, but also so fragile it might break and make me cry. It was the feeling of growing out of a favorite shirt, milk spilled on the floor, the last bit of honey in the jar, falling apple blossoms. It was the lump in the throat behind everything beautiful in life.
Melissa ColemanTags: beauty-and-sadness
...it must be hard when you are a beautiful woman and no one will look at your soul...
John GeddesTags: wisdom soul superficiality beauty-and-sadness beauty-fleeting
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