The days which make you.

Somedays you will be sitting on a rock alone with brimming eyes and a choked throat. Somedays you'll be singing out to the world your song of joy. 

Somedays you'll dance love songs in the rain. Somedays you'll keep walking in the sun till you don't feel your own pain.

Some days will be tough and you'll be brought down to your knees. And somedays you'll be bestowed with so much success that you'll almost cry out of happiness.

Somedays your coffee will taste like bliss. Somedays your favourite mug will slip out of your hands and break into pieces.

 Somedays they will hate you and call you names. And  somedays someone will put a hand on your heart and tell you how much you are loved. 

And all those days will make you, who you are.

If only you could see.

I was never made in a day.

 I was made of the soil I grew up in, the water I absorbed, the air I took in, and the sky I dreamt to touch some day. 

I am made up of the scars on my trunk, the leaves I shed each autumn and the twigs which broke off me as I grew. 

I am made up of the songs of birds who dwell in my trunk, squirrels who hop around me and kids who have carved their names on my chest with chalk and stone. 

I am made of so much love and so much pain. 

If only you could see me like that.