The Race.

Back when I believed in eternity, all was good. The flimflam of life was minor, the potentials and challenges unconsidered. Back when old was a lifetime away, unbelieved and foreign, the rules were unfathomable and petty. Back when dreams were possible, the pathways were invisible and unregarded. Primitive goals were easily breached, accomplishments were peelaway gold stars, everything meaningful hastily hidden and futured. Back when I believed in forever, urgency was no more than a Sunday night weight, a fabricated inconvenience. By the time it was real, it was too late to use. Eternity ends at the first xray. Back when I believed in us, there was nothing we couldn't create. We used fragments as figments, igniting, fusing into a mismatched, unsynced whole. Crow's feet and aches for trying, a refuelled belief for succeeding.