Clawmarks

"Trust me" vanishes as soon as it leaves your lips, and reality
creeps in. If only I could stretch those words out forever, like a
shield. Momentum is in our favor, but it's the only thing that is,
and the storms are strong with no signs of stopping. The most
determined child's "momentum" is reduced to a stumble in a
hurricane, before she is swept away.

Would you fight for me, plant a flag and validate my footprint
on your heart... say "She was always here. She belongs here.
She is part of who I am"? Or will you let me go to dust,
replaying the memory of me as proxy, a mirage, refusing to look
too close?