old ghosts walk through my dream space. shaking my core. pulling at my strings. unraveling me little by little. i wake in tears, trembling.
the boxes fell, spilling open all over the floor.
the boxes fell, spilling open all over the floor.
as i heard her tell her story, i saw my own.
damn boxes, i should have never kept them anyways. but see, i tend to keep everything in boxes. store all the old memories, moments and faces. and i thought these boxes were sealed. and just like that, there it all was. exposed and present.
do we ever entirely let go of anything?
damn boxes, i should have never kept them anyways. but see, i tend to keep everything in boxes. store all the old memories, moments and faces. and i thought these boxes were sealed. and just like that, there it all was. exposed and present.
do we ever entirely let go of anything?
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