I’m trying to reach it my fingers grasp thin air.
It zooms past leaving a trail of dust in sight.
I’m twenty years old,
Next I’m thirty.
With a blink of my eyes I’m fifty,
grandchildren running through my legs.
I can’t remember these people around me.
They say they’re family but their faces all blur into one.
The doctors say my time has come.
I haven’t lived.
My life has been lived through footnotes.
All I see is darkness.
All I hear are unrecognisable voices.
All I had were my choices.