Words left unwritten are heavier than words left unread.
In my dreams I have kept on walking, keeping the distance; always ready for the race.
In so many places no one saw me.
In such memories I am a faceless silhouette that belongs to the recollection of no one else.
Decades have gone by, and now I am heavy with those untold nights.
I have gone back to search for past onlookers, someone who could make the real seem true.
From the lonesome bridge I saw my memories drown in a river, rippling with magic and faiths gone astray.
Since then, I imagine all the memories that never happened, those we wanted to but never got to live. They feel as genuine as the ones I went through by myself.
And in these, my loneliest days, I am with you all the time.
'Cause you can belong with words left unspoken,
but true confinement are the feelings left unshared.
