Brain Dump (sorta).

I feel like I’m unraveling. The threads that make up my life are slipping loose, faster than I can catch them. I keep reaching for something steady, or something I can hold on to, but all I find is thread. Soft, yielding, pliable yarn that slides through my hands as if it was never meant to hold shape. As if its purpose is to remain unwoven, unchanged.

I remind myself this isn’t truth, or fact, only feeling. Yet the feeling continues and convinces me otherwise. I’m struggling to reshape, to hold steady in a form that no longer feels like mine.