I look around at what totems I've collected Paper Fair bracelets and movie tickets Trash standing in for memories. Some with pen on the back to remind me what they mean. Others blank, reminders of how much i've lost. I keep meeting men twice my age with the life i wanted who have done half as much as me Who are impressed at how much I've done But I just tell everyone I've completed everything I've started. Like I'm fast forwarding until my body catvhes up. By the time they realize it's a lie It will be true And the only thing stopping it from being real Is time. but I keep forgetting what I say will happen Unless i write it down become a prophet of my own story. Ink spilling like reminders Papertrails in lockboxes