Of Stopping Time

Everyone, at least once in their life, stands still.

This just happens to be my time.

It's sad, but I'm trying to live it day by day. Not thinking about the unavoidable end to this temporary sanity and oddly made sanctuary. Not thinking about it until it comes to past.

It'll hurt when it happens, but maybe it will hurt less than February. It will be a slow end. With a start and a slow middle, and possibly, an unnoticeable end.

I will hope. I will dream.

Because that is what I do, until the walls come crashing down on me.


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