We are stuck in a memory, a time that no longer exists. Haunting the abandoned cavities of chests, the still chambers of hearts, we are living in a standstill. When we gather the courage to speak our piece, we are failed by the echoes reverberating off of hollow walls.
We are waiting for someone to break the back and forth, to hear something other than white noise,
the ticking of a clock,
and our worn out affections that have long since lost their worth.
We are ghosts living in the ashes of old flames,
until life is brought back into these bones,
or we are laid to rest in our graves.
