#the brokenverse

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Why is the end endless?

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Bones of people you never knew

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Every day is another day of ghosts.

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Sitting in a car gives you a semblance of a long-dead past.

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Bits of paper are blown and scattered by the wind, never to be united again.

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The structures mankind built to showcase their power have crumbled.

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The lock is rusted but somehow still holds.

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You try to leave a message on a wall, in a drawer, in the pocket of a jacket. One day, long after your footprints have faded, you will hopefully be remembered.