There's a story you tell yourself,
a narrative of your life
that is braided together out of single, tenuous strands.
As you grow, learn, and age,
the thread gets stronger, reinforced —
to the point where you see not only where you've been
but also where you're going, the story's end.
Except — you'll never get there.
The rope will snap, the story unravel,
the fiction shown up as fraud. Left with nothing
but a handful of lies —
grasping, gripping, hoping, flailing, drowning in freefall.