Inmost Cases

She whispers things to the blue sky and white clouds.  "I won't be here forever," she says.  "I'm ready to leave, but I'm not ready to move on."

And the clouds reply, in a most disheartening way, "But they have already moved on from you.  You are nothing more than a fleeting thought."

And the sky retorts, "Ah, but that isn't to say they did it of their own will."

And the clouds argue, "She's nothing more than someone that cannot be remembered.  She will always be teetering on the edges of their mind, but never in the conscious thoughts."

And the sky argues back, "But she is still there.  She exists in the subconscious and she doesn't need more than that."

She remains silent as the feud rages on and listens as the clouds turn black and the sky turns gray and everything blurs into one.  And although their words seem true, she does not believe either.

She believes that being forgotten is simpler than that.

It is like the contrast of the blue and white, no blurred edges, no dispute.

You are either remembered or you are not.

There is no in between.

There is only noise

or silence.