I’m careful with my time. I live just on the dash—between the beginning and the end. We all have it on our tombstones but we sum it up with “Beloved Friend.”
They say, “Rest easy,” but I’ve found I’m much more likely to fight than play dead. Kicking and screaming. A lost soul just a stone throw away from both love and insanity. It’s truly just a toss of a coin. The better part of myself is unraveling. As if to make room for the idea of borrowed time, I’m becoming less patient and more vulnerable. I’ve found solace in not knowing when—to care is to waste and I’m not a fan of wasting precious moments.
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