saw them walking ahead of me today,
in the fogs,
densed in smoke
prize posessions left behind
morning mist, smog some call,
absolved into mockery,
no one dares to listen,
not even walls,
they prod scars and prick them open
the dead rises again,
dark as the onyx,
the onyx lies dead,
sometimes moaning.
torn diaries... deleted memories...
i wish i had a pensieve....
to keep my memories locked in...
to keep mt love locked in too
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