Chest flower

"Once I wanted to sketch again. Just a sketch. Brush drove my hand over the canvas. Giving birth to the skeleton of the chest.
Yeah, I said to myself, as always - the bones. But something inside me required - no! Not just bones! This is a vessel ... .. a vessel of essence. Crystal, fragile, like all our essence. Breaking, crushing, fragile.
The hand drew, and the brain demanded - but all is not so! Remember! Every spring life again arises on the windowsill of the cut skeletons from flowers for the winter !!!! Probably not a few people faced the problem of leaving a person to nowhere. This is not physical death. This is the death of the personality. Sect ...
So in my childhood, I had a real experience when a close person from our family left ... Gone ... I remember how adults gathered, discussed what else was possible and how to do. But alas. And the man and his soul never returned to us."