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Who Has The Time?

My watch is broken.
The sky gets darker,
I start to wonder
Are all my thoughts just
Synapses firing?
Or a parallel me
Speaking in dreams.
What are these worlds we find ourselves in?
A descriptor for water is lucid
But it is not even when it sounds so right.
I close my eyes,
I drift to thought.
They can’t be mine,
They are too many.
I hear the beating hearts of the world.
Their thoughts rushing to my mind,
A plague.
I look out the window,
Darker still,
Always darkest just before dawn.





On October 29 2009 64 Views





Tag - Tattoo
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