I hold my breath and slowly count to ten.
I let the weight keep sinking in.
And I know you wouldn’t want to bring me down,
but it’s the tarmac and the walls in these towns they seem to scream ‘do you remember when?’
as I stumble over the cracks of what could have been."
I used to love time, the idea that I had this expansive road out in front of me that I could take anywhere I wanted. I walk that road now and I’m weary and my feet are aching. I look ahead at this eternity stretching before me and it makes my shoulders sink because of just how many seconds I have left to fill. I question what each of those allotted digits, seconds and minutes, will contain. I know that maybe one day the fractions of 24 that I spend saturated in negativity will decrease, but now I feel like I’m dragging myself through the mud and making no progress whatsoever.