Sometimes it's hard to leave the past behind.
We walk away, but can't help but glance back.
Even as we look ahead, we are aware of its presence behind us,
a shadow that can't be caught.

We make vows to forget.
We promise to let go.
We walk around pretending that we are reborn in each moment.
All future.
No past.
Memories are not bodies to be buried in mass graves, never to rise again.

Look at the scars on my body, and I shall tell you a story of a young girl who used to share her plate of maas with a puppy named Rex.
Look at the scars on my heart and I shall tell you a story of a young woman who discovered death and the life it left behind.
Happiness and tears weigh down the scales in this past of mine.
Sometimes balanced.
Most times not.

#JUST A THOUGHT ON THIS RAINY DAY#

The silhouette of the soul, casting shadows upon life's rain.
Leaving us playing a violin of thought to the wind.

Nice write.....

You have a meandering weave to your thoughts that draw the reader in unknowingly.

Thank you

But more seriously, nice write.

Thank You