Wax

Some summer nights, when the air is cool, and the breeze is soft, and the people of New York are out, and for a moment it seems like everything is not falling to pieces in front of us,
your heart can break without a sound, and your chest be filled with a river of sadness, and it drowns you even as you are happy, and you feel there is a life you were meant to be living, and all the pieces are there, but they do not fit together like you wish they would,
and you aren't meant to make them.