wasting time wasting time wasting time theres no such fucking thing was wasting time theres always something to grab in the sea of chaos there is always a sight to see in a pitch black room there is always a choice to make in any circumstance, we make choices after choices after choices we make choices and they sure as hell make us, too.
we say words and sentences and phrases and paragraphs and they all say something about us
counting the stars night after night but what on earth are they counting on us for? can we save ourselves or will we be cast out into a nocturnal diorama of calamity, disaster, destruction? gazing at the planets without the knowledge that they are gazing right back,
reading books as they are reading us, are we listening to music or is someone finally listening to us?
unraveling unwinding unsheathing underestimating, you will find yourself deeper darker deceiving as on ocean terrified of what it could contain. have you ever been afraid of what was in your brain? wasting wasted time who are you why are you here what are you supposed to do now? now now now now? recycling clocks and pretending you have it all under control, each minute you spend wondering who you are will result in abstract art smeared onto plain white walls, you are 100 first kisses and 100 goodbyes you are prayers in a hospital room you are laughter at a funeral you are you are you are wasted time reborn in ways you cannot comprehend watch yourself through a looking glass and learn what it is to be unmade.
where i am going where have i gone what am i doing what have i done what have i done what have i done
who are you? what are you doing here?
YOU ARE READING
ur sleeping on the couch
Poetrysticky cantaloupe sunrises & kissing ur soft honeydew mouth
