The night sky hasn't changed; it remains ink stained, every night, despite its
disappearance during the day.
The sun still shines, moon sparkles alongside the stars, and the air isn't altered.
Humans shed their skin and take on a fresh layer, but it doesn't provide a
blank slate to start over. We are sun, stars, and the night sky; though
chemically we run through cycles of metamorphosis, we keep our names
and stay ourselves. The change is slow, but we don't shed ourselves
entirely. A blank slate still maintains what was there before, though
it appears faint and out of focus.
Who you once were still remains, though faintly, but that's not where I focus.
Who you once were is only a portion of who you are now, of the who
you are that makes you mine.
The past is only a portion of your present;
don't focus too much on lost time.
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