Daily Prompt: Fortune

The fortune left in my inheritance includes the ability to act as though everything is perfect when the world is crumbling in our fingers

With each generation we break until there is nothing left of us but the wind whispering our secrets to the world

We are weaved into epidemics no one wants to talk about until they are personally affected

Pretending families like mine aren’t completely killed off by these silent killers

The world faded to nothing in my father’s hands and all he has to show for it are the ghosts living behind his blue-grey eyes

In my fingers the world melted and I have yet to rebuild it

Nights I spend awake mania keeps me company, her energy driving me to do what I normally would steer clear of

Days I spend in a haze, depression turns my body into a winter wonderland with her arctic freeze occupying my bones

Tears stopped flowing down my cheeks the first months trying to solve this puzzle, scars are the only remnants of what I once was able to manage

Epiphanies come when I’m floating above the clouds but once my feet meet the gravel again I forget those discoveries I thought would be waiting for me

I still have yet to make sense of the fortune gifted between generations of hushed conversations

via Daily Prompt: Fortune

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