you know what. i don't. every single time i write here there is usually a reason. not every time i'd tell you what it is. unfortunately. there there. one day when all is said and done. you'd find out. or maybe not. but then again. what does it all matter. this time i just might.
this is for a friend. or is it for myself. when it hurts just to watch. the ghosts of the obscure past. ethereally haunting. misconstrued meanings. dreams of scintillating sunlight. darker than the darkest night.
a shadow of his former self. a shell cracked. its insides shattered. but time is always on the horizon. as the tears carve into the stone. we pick up the broken pieces. and one by one we'll fix it together. the tears will dry and no longer matter. but never again will it be the same. the scars to show in the lines of stone.