Ancient history is somehow present tense.
Everything is ending, but nothing is over.
And none of us knows how to make sense of the jumble of things that happened.
You start to wonder if anything meant anything.
If all we’re doing is reacting and the reactions don’t even make any difference.
Archived
once so active, so sweet and so hype
now lies lifeless between all the silence
daily constant euphoria encountered
progression often well-ignited
archived
hundred to zero so suddenly halted
made of it all nothing but doubt
my heart broke down aching ours
so hurt, it just cannot inquire
archived
no chances, no talk, no time
surprise! you’re no longer mine
said of time not playing our side
your choices, a blanket of quiet
archived
our relation-less ship is now docked
so much tenderness in full disembarked
here, let’s go, it is time we parted
I fight, insist, all denied
I just simply don’t know where our end
has actually started.
