The Past Stays Buried Underground

Every mile I tried to leave behind still follows somewhere in my mind.
I burned photographs in parking lots,
Left old names to slowly rot.
Told myself the hurt would disappear if I drove enough from here.
But the night still hits the same: every shadow knows my name,
And every scar I tried to hide still bleeds somewhere deep inside.
Maybe pain don't leave at once; maybe healing takes its time.
The past stays buried underground,
But I still hear the echo sound.
Every wound still cuts somehow, even if I'm stronger now.