through whispers or songs, we're always trying to speak the inherent truths of our hearts. i'll sing you a quiet little tune which lays it bare and exposed.
i'll whisper into your ears packaged little secrets tied up with those same strings which moor me to your fading; my collected memories clutch like an anchor.
so many things, so many moments, so many. fleeting, fluttering, at times faltering.
how can i know the when and where, if i don't know the who? and the idea fades and wanes into nothingness, like a dream dissolving into wretched awakenings.
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