The things we leave behind
never stop calling.
They sit in the corners of our minds,
in the shadows of our days,
whispering in voices
we thought we’d forgotten.

Night becomes day,
day becomes night,
the world keeps spinning,
the seasons fold into each other,
colors blending,
fast-forwarding through time.
But still—
the echoes linger.
Your voice still hums
in the quiet moments,
a...