Some days go slow, some days go
the other way around, tempo of life, we live but we dont know, we know
but we're not alive, a childish idea, a bubble popping but like all
great things forgotten in due time, all this is of no meaning, all this
to tell you I missed you, but you're not here, and I'm not looking, I
won't, happiness is a human flaw, sought only by the sane of us, by
them, by you, I walk away, wounds have healed, wounds have grown, but
unlike what kid me thought; they don't last, they only haunt you after
they die and wither away, haunted, hunted, but you can only know what
you see with your heart, but you had to look long enough to see beyond
your premonitions, I keep walking bare foot on a grass of molten thorns,
walking towards my own closure, destination isn't worth it, and neither
is the journey, and when grass turns to sand hope turns to Ashe, I shall
breath again, story of my life, never read it before, I just keep on
writing, a million miles march, I wish I had a chance to forgive you,
it would mean I held something inside, something to forgive, before letting go.
