they'll never remember and they'll never forget the clever catch phrase, history repeats itself. it trades frames and places with remnants of old dusty nothings that transform into crystal clear convictions. they'll never understand what it means to say, "hello there." and they'll never understand what it means to say, "we're no longer here." they'll never know what it means to say, "i'll think it over." and no one else will understand what she means when she says, "we'll try something different." long hallways closing in with dark, faint moments that tread alongside her mental - she's moving, disappearing, going into a tunnel of light that surpasses those moments. she's put up a fight, long enough. gloves are worn out and torn down to the very thread of their make. what awaits her feet at the end, she hopes to grab hold of and not just touch. forever. until then, she remembers that they'll always remember and they'll never forget that what happened in the past will surely happen again. but her memory won't latch on to their premature thoughts - she'll prance around a field of sunflowers and sink inside the deep rays of the sun for hours, enveloping in the newness of life. she remembers, it is possible to live twice.
