"rust"

remember the nights painted in forgotten places, the flicker of a disposable lighter illuminating worn-out denim. these were the moments etched into existence, the quiet confessions whispered in the dim glow, a story lived in every crease and faded thread.

it’s a feeling, a memory you can touch. the echo of something lost, but found again in the deep, earthen tones, like the last embers of a campfire burning slow as dawn breaks.

filed under: ghost of a memory.