Crumbling like a fragile, sandstone figure, I rest in the corner. Strolling through the utter destruction of my life, I ponder our future. Why can't I save us? I feel this slipping between my fingers like water, and I'm helpless to hold on to it. Dreams fade into a harsh reality, waking me to rigid mornings, and sobering days. Fleeting feelings that one day everything will be OK, are becoming increasingly rare. I am a pretender on the cusp of being a real person. An actor on the stage... Acting like my life is uncomplicated... Like I'm noble... That I am more important than I truly am... At the end of the day, the mirror tells no lies... Between this unreal world and the actual one, sometimes they become confused; infused together... We'll be OK though... Right?

"I am above the weakness of seeking to establish a sequence of cause and effect, between the disaster and the atrocity." - Edgar Allan Poe