Broken bones reveal themselves in x-rays and we just let them be,heal with hours and days
But why can't people and places just be,too?Why are we not immune to change yet?
Maybe the fault's in us,we live off the cheap consolation that it'll all come to a stand still in the end,
that today matters just as much as yesterday.
Somebody said to me recently,what's the point of living in the past?Well,what's the point of this pointless plot?It all flies away the same.
But we care anyway.
And you can never change the things that change you,you can only live with them.
You can never change how looking into someobody's eyes for the last time feels like,
or the first time someone made you feel special with a couple of words,
How it felt to be small and helpless in a world spiralling out of control
and how sometimes,broken hearts only heal only into empty cavities,bearing bullet holes holes inside your chest,
Stitches on old wounds always stay for keep,faint reminders of pain that teems.
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