Breathing

Breathing.

Slowly.

Steadily.

The rush of everything I once knew and struggled so hard to remember was now losing meaning.

The reason along with the memories themselves– I tried so hard not to forget –were now being let loose.

Adrift in a sea of unopened letters, forgotten graves, and “It’s the thought that counts gifts”, my memories and dreams were becoming lost, never to be found again.

Grasping on to the arm rest beneath my finger tips, I try to collect all my thoughts and tuck them away to a place where they would be safe.

I was not ready to lose all I had achieved.

I was not ready to give it all up.

I was not ready to say goodbye to who I once was.

Posted in Poetry

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