The tides of life shoved you away from what you were.
Feelings and thoughts you don’t recognize any longer. 
The language of your mind sounds foreign.
And as time feels like sand slipping through your fingers,
it still makes you sit there, filling your future with what you could do, what you are supposed to do.
Look into my eyes and tell me that this sits right with you.
You take advice from every corner, as you strut through landscapes you can’t pronounce the names of.
One day, someone plays you a song on the strings of a Tonkori.
The next, you re-watch a video of a friend playing on her guitar.
You switch memories for experiences,
and live in none of them.
The past is the only familiar visitor,
while the future becomes your sacrifice.
Because all you dream of is to be in the present.