When the dream breaks, so much has changed, as if time has been manipulated.
I look for you in photos with me for proof, but it seems that you have faded.
I must be crazy to speak and have memories of things that may have never happened, but I swore someone else was there.
I guess I'm really losing it, maybe it was just a voice in the air.
Should I go back to these places and look for four footprints in the mud, or are these photos telling me all I need to know?
Could I have been roaming around in the woods for three years by myself, conversing with a ghost?
Jan 31, 2017
Jan 31, 2017 at 12:35 PM UTC
When the dream breaks, so much has changed, as if time has been manipulated.
I look for you in photos with me for proof, but it seems that you have faded.
I must be crazy to speak and have memories of things that may have never happened, but I swore someone else was there.
I guess I'm really losing it, maybe it was just a voice in the air.
Should I go back to these places and look for four footprints in the mud, or are these photos telling me all I need to know?
Could I have been roaming around in the woods for three years by myself, conversing with a ghost?
Request permission to use this poem