Reminisce, rolling around with the persistent dreams.
Faces so real, I could almost feel them.
Voices still so raw, I couldn't tell if I was dreaming or awake.
The conversations? Harrowing.
Full of pain. Regret. Grief.
Conversations I wish we all had.
Words I wished they had believed in.

I was someone worth knowing before I think. That's why I got a long with most.
But the moment your life gets obliterated.
They look at you not quite with disgust but with distrust.
How ironic is it, when you speak the truth, they call it a lie.
But when you choose to speak a lie, they mark it down as truth.
Because they want the simplest answers.
...