Time moved through me forgetting to carry me with her.
And I waited.
Like the businessman at Flinders Street Station - stagnant - while the world passed him by, and time moved through him, in fast motion; forgetting to whisper past his cheek and sweep the petals from his eyes.
For he carries a garden inside, but all gardens need time.
The generation of more self-help bestsellers than people willing to self-help themselves, but will Google-search "how to stop self sabotaging" after a friend of a friend tagged another friend in a Facebook article, once.
We pay some expensive ******* with a piece of paper in a frame to tell us what we already know, but your mental health is a good investment, right?
It's nice to believe that humans can be akin to the übermensch, and such supremacy can be achieved with therapy, with healing, with pretty little pills.
It's easier to accept we are jaded, than admit we were born to be our own devil.
Just watch as Mother Nature devours her own children by flame, and maybe we'll begin to see that we were created to die a hundred times over at the end of our own hands.