time blinks forward and you don't.
millions of miles gone, but remnants of you remain. they prosper. they grow.
they bleed into me and everything i do.
i listen to a conch shell on the beach, and i hear your voice over crashing waves. complaining about sand in your fingernails and salt in your hair.
i wonder if that's all i'll ever hear for the rest of time.
if you spend every minute with someone, everything ends up coming back to them. even when they're not there. even when they're so far underground it's like they never were.
i'm never not thinking about you.
