I’m holding onto
the abused child
who used to
play in realms
of fairytales,
myths, legends,
comics
movies, tv shows,
and books.

I’m holding onto
the ones I long to
reunite with,
dead people
I still miss,
ghosts who painfully
wake me
from sleep,
crying.

I’m holding onto
the guy I always
wanted to be
stronger, more creative,
more compassionate
more patient,
more giving,
and a more intelligent
self-sacrificing gentleman.
Despite how easy it would be
to be greedy and deceive
I always strive to be
a better version of me.

I’m Holding on to
a silver sliver
Of slimmer hope
that glimmers
in the distance,
just a small chance
at a romance
with someone
I’ve loved
for almost twenty years.

I’m holding onto
slightly subdued
versions of dreams
I used to dream
for me
and all humanity.

Till, the end
I am holding onto
my friends
and this one life
we all get to live,
cause I’m not waiting
for the sequel
that is supposed to be
coming after this.