My life...
It's like holding fistfuls of sand, each grain a moment in time. My hands clenched as tight as possible, trying to remember every single feeling and second of my life, but I can't stop the grains from falling from my grasp. Pretty soon, the only ones left are creating indents in my hands too striking to forget. And as time goes on, I keep grabbing more and more sand only to have it slip through my fingers again no matter how hard I try to hold on. Though there are ones I want to remember, and ones I want to forget, my memory is not as selective as I'd like. There are certain big grains of sand that make marks that will never go away, but some little ones slip away without me even realizing they existed to begin with.
And I wanted so much to be an hourglass.
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