The Timekeeper

I’m not allowed to laugh anymore. Cold and callused with age, so they say. 
It isn’t meant to be, all lost, like dreamcatchers, storybooks, and all the carefully chosen names I once knew so well.
Now sugar tastes less sweet, tart on the tip of my tongue- sickly so.
I suppose this is inevitable, but I never guessed it would come so soon.
Time goes by quickly, it only stays in my vision long enough for me to see, and then it is gone. Vanished.
I can never cherish something so ephemeral.
I suppose this is the way it must be, and believe me: I am scared.