The fiery reds and oranges engulf the brown tower.
Leaves drifting down like ash.
Pictures of the past are scattered on the ground.
The flames burning everything down.
The past is only a memory now.
The white dust falls silently,
Hiding the ashes of what once was.
Pushing us on to live in the future.
But death resides all around us.
The cold air of the freezer tries to preserve life, but it’s impossible.
The smell of death lingers in the air, on our clothes, in our nostrils.
We cling to the hope of life, but it’s fading quickly.
Soon there will be nothing.
Nothing but white walls to trap the insanity that possesses us all.
We will forget what it truly meant to leave.
We will no longer remember what the sun on our faces and the rain in our hair felt like.
The sensation of our fingers intertwined together will no longer be experienced.
We will forget what it feels like to have our hearts beating quicker than they should with every new touch.
All we know are cold, hard walls.
We will rock ourselves asleep at night,
Hoping in the morning that this nightmare will be over.
But we wake up lying in a pool of our own tears,
Knowing that they will dry and the cycle will continue day after day.
We will never wake up, because the fact of the matter is:
We were never sleeping, just existing.
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