i keep wondering, how i am going to keep this up. it's so exhausting, all the things i should do and have to do and have to be and have to fulfil. this is not me, i want to say. there is nothing for me to live up to. no dreams to dream, to gift to keep. i am smaller than the dirt on the ground. no. smaller, smaller than that. i want to hurtle into the deepest and darkest of space, smash everything in my way and break and burn and go to waste. but even that would take up too much of me. for i am smaller, smaller still.
but then it occurs to me that somehow, i am almost there. it's almost over, almost complete.
the scars on my wrist have faded into barely discernible brown lines that blend into my new skin kissed by the blazing sun. kissed because we keep on moving, keep on trudging along amidst the giddying heat, you holding my hand and pulling it and urging me to go on and when i stumble and trip over my own two feet you grab hold of me and you carry me.