Every day forward. One step, then another.
Every day, another day.
Yet here we are with feelings of another.
The feelings of that day, not of this.
But here we are with feelings as strong as ever.
Do we pass or just charge right through?
Does it change whether hurt is involved or pain is not touched?
The way we move as if that past is behind us, just to have it sneak up on us at night.
Like the cool side of your pillow, just waiting for the next turn.
Do we grow within the cracks, or have the cracks seeped into our souls?
Breaking apart the very solidity we believe to be untouchable.
Have we been looking at things all the wrong way?
Maybe the reactions are here to prove more than the action set in motion to begin with.
Maybe looking within is more of a way to look without, while still holding strength within oneself.
Like a mirror with infinite space, seeing all that has passed you and beyond.
Maybe the past isn’t as distant as we think.