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.