day after gray day,
the time begins
to slip through
my fingers
like sand
i'm beginning to
lose all concept of time
i don't know what day it is
or what to do with
the seemingly endless
amount of time i have
but the thing is,
it isn't endless
time is running,
far too fast for me
to catch up with,
and i hate
that depression
has stolen so many
of my years
i don't know what to do
i can't tell when I'm
dreaming
nothing feels real
what do you do when all the stars die?
YOU ARE READING
SUNFLOWER BABY
Poetry"but we kept secrets from time, and I saw constellations in your smile . . . " [[ a series of poems ]]
