where were we

In the end, we’re only a collection of our symbols. We strip ourselves of everything soft, we discard our intangibles, we shove our voices and our weaknesses aside and when we sift through what’s left of us, we’re only the sum of the trinkets left scattered around. We’re nothing more than empty structures and rotted tokens of emotion standing on display so we have something to point to when we ask ourselves who we are.

One day we’ll strip those down, too, and we will have nothing but the few symbols we’ll keep to remind us of what we weren’t.