Time is Running Out


 
Every choice is round
Like an inkling of a portal;
We trust doors to not devour us.
I tremble anyway.

You may not understand fear.
However . . .
I who once felt nothing
Believe I comprehend most stoically
How being afraid of something
Can deny.

–My ringing nerves.
Without a steadying warmth to harbor
Or beauty to Pulsate through me
Anxiety is merely a swarm of asphyxiation
Unshakable.

In those dreams
When unseen things chase after
Even the cleverest traces across neurons
Won’t awaken the past . . .

The fore-bearing moments lay inward.
Time is running out. Flow.
–And gone.
 
 

Advertisements

Your thoughts are welcomed and appreciated.

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s