— You know those days when you get the mean reds?
— The mean reds? You mean like the blues?
— No. The blues are because you're getting fat or maybe it's been raining too long. You're just sad, that's all. The mean reds are horrible.
Some birds aren't meant to be caged. Their feathers are just too bright. And when they fly away, the part of you that knows it was a sin to lock them up does rejoice. But still... the place you live in is that much more drab and empty that they're gone. I guess I just miss my friend.
I miss you like the sun misses the flower. Like the sun misses the flower in the depths of winter. Instead of beauty to direct its light to the heart hardens like the frozen world your absence has banished me to.