Using time to think about what was, what never was, what should have been.
The world outside of now is all
As time slips quietly out of reach. Lost promise plays across my inner view
But the light that shines across the room
Into my eyes as I stare at the wall
Is nothing.
Using time to lose myself again and again, time and again in wishes.
Living other people’s moments;
Consumed by their lives as, tick by tock, my life morphs into what never was,
What should have been. And still the light shines on my eyes
Creating unseen patterns,
Unfelt pain.
Using time to understand that time is not my own but rather something given and poured out;
Not seen except as oddly distant.
History and prophecy the same, in truth,
And life shines on my face and hurts my eyes as staring,
Waiting, dreaming, drifting, falling,
I remember.
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