Sometimes you may find yourself wander in thoughts; recollecting the past. Believing you're the only one, that others have moved on, and that you should as well.
Yet you end up dwelling here once in a while.
The thing is
Others do keep the fragments of it—unconsciously picking up the relics, though wouldn’t be the exact same one as yours. They might as well hold onto them.
And you'll never know.
Seemingly lost, but can spread out,
tainted the air like a deadly cloud full of reminiscence,
thus none dares to rouse.
So do say
The act of recognizing so,
is sure as hell an act of a braver one.
.
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