.
Trace the suns
that traverse the skies

Follow the moons
that try to keep pace

Count the ticks
that strike my clock

For you are the numbers
to the rest of my days

.

Quietly droning as you drone on quietly
hiding violent tendencies
and tending to violence
harsh words were written harshly
on paper turned over for space
made of recycled paper
it's obvious your hopeless
but oh so hopelessly obvious
as you love for them
they might love you too
fast forward to happy times
while your mind rewinds
and replays the sadness
as you sit by their side
and they slide away
you've never felt further away
then when you are at their side
things will get better
as you get better things
while you impatiently await
a measure of patience