I am taking apart my life and handing it to you in pieces. I am documenting a world that I don't belong to, collecting the evidence so they'll know that I saw it all and still didn't find that place called home. I am leaving you a copy of a copy, a brown square of negative space. I would tell you about vanishing points if I knew how, about lines that expand like bubbles and dissipate on the horizon. I would tell you about goodbyes, about endpoints. But you still believe in forever and I won't be the one to tell you that it doesn't exist.
I wrote this for a competition & I may become a new writer on WJDKYY for a few months.