The spirit is a real thing,
No matter how badly we'd like to convince ourselves this is our only stop in the universe,
Or we are a fragment of some wild imagination.

And maybe we can't touch everyone,
And not everyone we've smiled at in our lives will remember us in the long run,
But our essence and energy will linger around those who got to love us,
And the places we bought our after work drinks and early morning coffees,
Keep them comfortable,
And give them reminders of who we once were,
The presence we offered,
Soft or strong,
Something still tangible even after we've found our way into the dark.