The days pass, the hours -
but it's each moment that lingers,
defiant.

They are like dreams: the ones that seem endless.
The ones that consume and crush you,
and make your body hum as the blood pumps throughout.
They keep you asleep, but alive. Working.

And when it's over - when you awaken and you're
forced to see and think and feel,
the reality of it all ignites your soul.

The way that hot ashes travel with the wind like whispers,
is the way your memory idles around me.
Silent, but bold, you remain -
the perpetual scar on my heart.