I feel like we’re the last leaf, on the last tree of the fall. and as we lose grip. gravity carries us. down with broken limbs and all.
now I think if we could travel until all the sails and the lines simply break and fade. but that can only be real when the course that you set is the same.
now barely half a summer has passed through. we finally found our last line the one we knew.
we couldn’t get through. we’re past tense, no one ever tried like we did. ten years well spent. at least we have that to hold on to.
cause time takes away. like the slowed silence of these half mast days. and in their wake. we are all left with only one real choice to accept it or ourselves fade away.