The night is your bed, the moon a blanket for your thoughts and the stars your pillow. You are immobile, paralysed by feelings and memories that only grow stronger as the light dims. There are so many things left to say that remains unsaid, and songs to sing that go unsung.

Worlds awake without slumber now, the physical realm paling in comparison to the galaxies that you can reach in your mind. There are planets and solar systems of hurt that you can reach with a simple call for the past - and you, the lost traveler floating in the vacant space.

A gaping hole where your heart once was echos the empty in your soul, but tears are the makeshift poultice that keep you going. A similar blank smile graces your face; but the cracks in your frame seep only love and a sadness that speaks volumes of how deep the hurt runs in your blood, bleeding black and wilting crimson.

Memories, memories.

For I remember everything, even as you forget -

- even as you have forgotten.

(A.H.Z)