The walls are high,
and the fog is thick.
I have a pencil in my hand,
and the world asks a question.
The candle is burning,
and the dark night is falling.
Do not stray from the question.
Face it head on.
8.18.2025
come, stay and let's talk. it's a good day to be alive
Memory is sticky.
It stays with you even when you thought you have outrun it.
In the moments of torrential rain
or de-moisturizing heat of the blazing sun,
it will stay with you.
So I wrote it a letter,
explaining why I had to move forward.
I explained that thanks to the memories,
those that shined brightly,
and those that hurt the most,
I now know where to go.
So the memory listened and remembered what I said.
8.13.2025
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