When scars mend,
With the turgid taste of time,
Rotation swells,
Minds travel ash,
I am burning down memories,
Changing what matters,
Never know where I am going,
As long as I am going.

As long as I am going,
I travel every which way,
I use these keys to unlock,
The days before me,
Not behind me.

Their scent clings  to me,
And vague recollection sits in my discolored skin. 

But I know to face the direction in which I intend to travel. 

The End

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