NowIRise.

12.10.15

Stilted emotions, old pains.

Faded memories, permanent stains.

Well-worn path, dead-end street.

What used to be home, what used to be neat.

Remnants of clarity, fractured by time.

I don’t remember our rhythm, I can’t hear our chime.

This time I feel it, a shift in the tide.

Our story is fractured, our fire has died.

 

-b

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