Freeform writing crushing, another dying star
Remembering is all we have, and perhaps memories are the only things that are true. The sparkle that once caught our eye upon a time shall soon fade before the overshadowing of passing days. This being forever close to bursting, and always close to tears, and how much can one fit into a bottle before is breaks ? These sacred moments (carefuly preserved) always tucked away, until the day we break and wish to feel alive again. Then we look back on all that was there; the shimmer of water amongst the glints of hair, these collisions upon divisions, and we will always be alone. Beyond us there's shores of moments we've not yet touched, but for now those emotions are all we ever knew. Around the corners of these dingy streets, the laughter mixed in memories, and the sorrow betwixed the passing years.
You'll never find another like her, perhaps you'll change and relate to something new. There's only room for constant refinement and the cursed coating of hindsight now. So clutch fast the fear and break through it, for these clouds were never left unpierced, and behind them the sun in all its glory waits for your turning tide. So no more tears (until later) for another day has died, and once again left you behind. Now forever looking back, life is an endless process of letting go, and dieing in every breath.
Once we float weightless, we'll know what it means to live...
You'll never find another like her, perhaps you'll change and relate to something new. There's only room for constant refinement and the cursed coating of hindsight now. So clutch fast the fear and break through it, for these clouds were never left unpierced, and behind them the sun in all its glory waits for your turning tide. So no more tears (until later) for another day has died, and once again left you behind. Now forever looking back, life is an endless process of letting go, and dieing in every breath.
Once we float weightless, we'll know what it means to live...