Maybe

Are things really getting better or are we just getting better at accepting them?

Either way, don't think about it now, you'll only make it worse.

Things change.

Echoes fade and memories die. Autumn frosts have slain July.

Goodbye July...

Watching smoke makes me feel sane again.

Ash is definite evidence, but what good does it ever do?

What shall we use to complete the wall?

Memories.

Bury memories with memories.

Bad with good.

And good with bad.

You know what's the only thing worse than the calm before a storm?
The calm after it.

I like where I am and I hate the fact that time won't stop carrying me away.

We contradict ourselves and we burn and we die.

We're all unforgiven.

And maybe that's all there is to it.

Maybe.

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