Why haven’t I told you
Am I scared
You will make me feel
As though I don’t need to do this
That I can be okay without
Setting a number each day
Why haven’t I told you
Am I scared
You will feel
Concern for me
Knowing I hate doing this
Why can’t I tell you

My string has been getting pulled
For years
Slowly but surely
I’m become a red ball of yarn
Maybe I was poorly knitted
In the first place
No matter how well the craftsmanship
You found the loose end
To wrap around your hook
And crochet into
Any item you decided
You needed that day

A show I assumed
I would have breaks in between each one
But no this is one long movie
Never ending
No time to rest or reflect
I could pause it
Take a break
But somehow it’s entertaining
The chaos that I can’t even understand
Maybe the meaning is just that
We all get old
We all die
Time keeps moving without us
But that doesn’t explain it all
Maybe it’s not meant to be understood
Maybe we just sit through
Watching
Reacting
To each moment
Presented to us
Not aloud to fast forward or rewind
No matter how much we want to skip
This moment