Growing up, I can't say I've achieved as much, experienced as much, or travelled as much as most of my moonyears mate; but I can say for sure that though such long time has in deed passed, somethings haven't changed -and maybe they won't.
I still fidget at the sound of your voice. I still take evening walks when the day gets a little sadder. I still count the quick steps you make when walking. I still cry sometimes, hurt sometimes. I still dance to the rhythm of my favorite song. And I still write letters you'll never get to read.
Growing up, much has changed, but these hasn't. And some times when I stumble on an unintended rhyme while writing, or go through old photos in old galleries, I can't help but wonder if they ever will in the slightest. For change they say is a good thing; "it'll help you grow" they say. But sometimes, just like today, when the day gets a little sadder, I can't help but wonder. Must the human mind be induced with change too? And if so, why can't time take this away from me? The one thing that makes me want to walk next to you even on the saddest days.
And some times, I do get my answer. "Some things might never get to change" you said. And I remember that day too, when I smiled and replied,
"And maybe that's a good thing"
YOU ARE READING
Whispers From The Dark
PoëzieIt all started with one person -the bane of my existence. And from there, the whole random package. This has to be the deepest emotions I've felt penned down in one single book-did i break that person or did I end up broken?
