sometimes i feel- impermanent. i am shifting and changing constantly, like pieces of fabric floating on a sea of fear, and i can’t stitch them into a cohesive person anymore. the sea swallows me whole but the next minute i can’t remember what it was like to drown.
i wrote a letter yesterday and it was so warm and kind and forgiving, but today i don’t remember what that felt like. i’m falling apart, tearing at the seams, my mind scattering into stardust. every part of me is temporary.
i don’t think i will ever be whole again, sometimes. i worry that what i’m writing is a catalogue of my own destruction; will someone look back at this someday and say here is where it started, here is where it begins to fracture?