silent melodies

my voice cracked when the silhouettes appeared before me. i know that it will be the affections that i won't let go even when the the crowds butt in. but the oils in my hand are the chances slimmer than a sheet of tracing paper. and in the long gone months of adventure filled with joy, nerve-wracking pain, and scars carving within, formed was an aisle of proses and poems that i never know i could write.

and now that i had them written, i'll sing that moments' praises. reliving the sands at the bottom of the hourglass. still having all my bracelets around my wrist even when the darkest monsters haunt me as they were telling me not to wear them.