Time/ how the ticking of a clock can only exist right now/ broken clocks/ the stop of such permanence/ the fragility of time/ the fragility of loving him/ the fragility of him loving me/ the tick of the clock between us/ how quickly the sun rises/ how quickly it sets into darkness/ how yesterday slips from my memory/ how quickly my touch becomes his/ how quickly his fingertips vanish/ the silence after a belly-aching laugh/ when I realize how rare that kind of joy is/ and how I always forget to cherish it/ watching the people I love/ realizing how much I’m going to miss them/ forgetting to miss them while they’re still here/ watching the people I love disappear from my life/ watching the people I love die/ hearing a recording of my parents’ voices/ and not recognizing their laughs/ being the last one to say goodbye/ longing/ how I always need more/ how I can touch what I want/ but never hold it the way I need to/ never knowing what I truly want/ never knowing if I’m the one standing in my own way/ freedom/ the weight of having to choose it/ being trapped/ the smothering comfortability of it/ when a word is stuck on the tip of my tongue/ but my mind doesn’t know how to shape it/ how that must be what growing older feels like/ forgetting/ how it comes so easily and stays so long/ being the first to remember/ and the last to forget