#nevergrowup

This is it. 29. All I’m ever going to be. I’m struggling to grip with reality, one that shows itself to me as unchanging. Progress so small in 10 long years I wonder if I have the time to change at all. Will it matter. So many years spent alone and raging. Turned silent to quiet dissociation. Moments sprinkle the chain link memory, lines drawing together but full of gaps. The moments that glisten never change the links, never fill the gaps. Watching on with envy to the brick wall. Solid, sturdy, reliable. And memories filled and full with cement between to ensure that everything sticks and stays together. I’m not sure if I’ll last much longer. Rusted, withering, too many holes.