That Dusty Old Cap

*Hats Post*

On the ground is a dusty old cap, carelessly discarded after being worn too many times. Still clinging to the baseball logo that’s lost it’s hype. Trampled on with pieces strewn about ten feet in diameter because it doesn’t have a purpose anymore. It’s hidden behind the dumpster so no one will ever see it until the fabric becomes so worn and dirty it’s unrecognizable.

I am that cap. Clutching memories close to my chest so they will never leave. I’m trapped in an earlier time zone, reliving each moment of my life as new ones pass right by me. Repeating old, eroded conversations in my head while trying to cover the emotions they drag up. Analyzing who I was rather than who I am.

And even though my past has been forgotten by all but me, I’m still too afraid to lose what I had. And can’t focus on what I have to gain.

I’m a hoarder, clinging to trash that serves no purpose. Trash that clutters my life with memories and useless ways to make them better.

I know it’s wrong, but still, I lay on the dirt collecting dust, afraid to let go of the past. And afraid of being nothing without it.

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-The Splintered Pencil