Paper Weight

I'm stuck,

In the same things I beg myself to move on from
They make me happy as they show me that they're still around
But I know they're slow
I saw that they're groggy
Like colours that fade with time,
Words in ink that lasts a second,
Like laughs lost in the air
They're not like what they used to be
I'm overusing it
It's overworking
Its been overdone
Just because it still sometimes shows slivers of shine, of how it used to be
I hold on
Failing to see,
Denying to see
How much everything has changed,
How much I have changed,
How much it all needs to change
I fear
I'll hold on until it's last breath
Stand at its funeral
Lying to myself again
Pretending I didn't know it was coming
Calling this the moment I needed to move away
When it was really long ago,
That I realised the honesty of it all,
The truth behind beginnings and endings,
The simplicity of alive and dead,
Realising firsts and lasts,
Overt recognition of the demise of every moment in time
It seemed like the perfect time to start the change I wanted and needed
But I delayed and delayed and I don't know what I did it for
Because now I'm stuck in this limbo
I'm not able to change so fast who I think I have to be
The half presence half absence wearing me down
The weight of nostalgia
The emptiness of it gone

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So then,
I pine for days that are full
Unaware of what was, and what will be
What is, what is, what is
Is all there is
God that sounds wonderful
Will there be such a day?
The feather touch of today
Signs of times that will be lost
Is all this still better?
Than everything else that tick-tocks away from me and who I have been and have to be?
I'm stained with wistfulness
These paper feelings called memories
I beg each day to someone
To write me off to the vendors of paper dreams
Of what we know as age,
Because,
At least there's still space to write
My words, and what I hold in fear
I'll give them one more chance
To exist for a second,
To matter for a moment,
To be real in the tiniest way possible
To be read by a person like a paper weight,
Hold me I'm flying,
Keep me here,
I honestly hope of you
As if my words in your eyes will save them and me,
Because otherwise I feel like a drive that has ended, an untaken photograph, a thought that has got no other way to go, a feather that has flown, a drop no one saw, a breeze no one cared for and a
moment that is long gone.