A clean slate is all I need,
The splatters of dirt from my past die at the hands of a despicable duster,
And all that remains is a clean green slate, So full of potential invention , of potential destruction, so full of hesitation, all in all, so empty.
And all that is left of the past are memories, vivid in my mind, but blurred in yours.
Memory is cruel to me , it makes me remember last year like yesterday , how lucky are those who can leave the past behind ;
And not have to live in the present, haunted by the past and fearful of the future. Maybe I'm trapped in three time zones connected by a wormhole because surely I'll remember yesterday tomorrow.
Surely I won't fail to see the irony in the chalk dust on the clean green slate, ready to be wiped away , ready to perish at the first glance of a destructive duster. Surely these words are stronger than those of chalk , they can bear the brunt of time on their shoulders , maybe even uphold their dreams long enough to be whispered aloud, when no one is around , of course.
So read me please, before I'm wiped away by the hands of time, for in your eyes I live , if even for a moment, I am immortalized in the thought that reverberated into the cosmos when your gaze passed these lines, and for me , that is enough for this existence.
