we all fall victims to words that wither in the wind and die in the distance.
this takes the best out of all of us, and most never stop saying i'm en
route to recovery, apparently, a recovery that goes on and on but never
ends.
it only takes a week of meeting who you are, who you were, and who you
will be to find out what happens next, for some, it might take decades,
decades of stumbling across uneven roads that take us to what tomorrow
should be.
the world is unfolding before our eyes,
and the threads of fate are unravelling.
with all said, i fell victim to words that withered in the wind and died in the distance, taking the best of me, with me never ceasing to say i'm en route to recovery, a recovery that goes on and on and never ends.
with a sigh, i sat down on an empty space somewhere in an abandoned lot looking into a reddish cloud carpeted sky. breathing in the night air, someone sat right next to me with a heart tattooed on her hands, saying only this:
Quote:
the race isn't over, just keep running,
this won't last forever, so just keep moving
|
i asked her for her name, and after seconds of awkward silence, she gave me her hands, a hole in the palm of each one, bleeding through the heart tattooed behind it.
Quote:
my name is hope, they call me the future,
my name is understanding, they call me the past,
my name is salvation, they call me your present
|
hours later, she walked me home, i never saw her again, but that night, i fell asleep with her words permanently painted on the walls of my memories.
her name was hope, i called her the future,
her name was understanding, i called her the past,
her name was salvation, i called her my present.
i saw myself in her eyes...
i saw salvation, i saw salvation...