placed in the simplest forms of communication
and yet there's so much that was never said.
what's been said isn't going back to where it was
and where this conversations going, well it's safe to say
it's dead.
there's nothing like the silence broken
after a nice wandering through the mind.
and there's little left to fill your head with now,
especially since you've done what you've done, and said
what you've said.
but i wonder, from time to time, how you are,
where you've been, what you're thinking, why you'd left,
who you're seeing yourself as nowadays, and when you've
come to this realization that there's nothing left here;
it's dead.