Slip Through the Cracks

Aim- A Tree, A Rock And A Cloud

The cracks between the buildings slip through whispers of nothings and forgotten memories. I'm reminded of times that I never lived, or I thought I hadn't, told with vivid gusto only to be marred with sudden disbelief. Where are they?

So focused on the unattainable hope, the everyday is forgotten. Stripped away from the mind by the vacuum of the endless halls between the walls. Technically not endless but trying to work your way between the cracks is like a lifelong journey of futility; finding nothing but empty space.

I'm starting to forget my life as it pours away and slips through my fingers into the alleys of the forgotten; the discarded.

The friends and family we once had when we were young, now enemies, strangers and ghosts. All slipped away.