A disappearance of hope. The end is here, but time will go on. Time, the great mystery, in which all wounds are healed. Nobody talks about the wounds that time creates.
I hold onto a time that made me the happiest. I cling to it fiercely, but time stretches ever forwards. Time rips my flesh, as it makes that moment drift farther and farther away.
The future looks bleak. I try harder and harder to go back to that time where I was happiest, but it only makes things worse.
Memories that were happy are now sad. Happy that I had them, sad that I cannot have them anymore. They don’t get to hold the same meaning.
Time moves ahead. Never stopping. Never reversing.
I just want those moments back.

Whaddya think?

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