Sunday Drops

It is a Sunday morning. Like every Sunday morning every week. She looks at me. I see a fire in her eyes. But she knows how to extinguish it. Its her morning. Its the truth she discovered, the truth that no one wants to go for, because no one wants to go through the fire. They will never see whats on the other side, if she stops crying. Its the fire in her eyes. But she knows how to extinguish it.