You never really bother keeping time at all.
All you wish is to spend eternity in that moment.
Alive and dead in that moment,
Framing yourself—outside the sands of time.

Such a sight to behold.
The beauty of sitting on your warm behind.
Cool, filtered air blowing, drying your sore eyes.
Staring at two glowing tail lamps, full of rage and light.
Time waves good bye, like a widow left behind.
Composed,civilized minds decline into untamed―primitive impulses.
Instincts drive them, hoping it will hasten their journey.
The flow of traffic shows otherwise.

Sleep, it calls for you.
Your lover when twilight sets in.
But the crevice in the narrow opening
Of daylight's yawn is holding on to you,
Calling you to cuddle its distractions.
Distractions that grind your spine to dust,
And turns your heart into a mutton.

Sleep well my dear.
Do not let the drama of day consume you.
Let her satiate your brittle bones,
Let the moon embrace you in solace,
Let the faint white noise deafen you to slumber.
Suffer like little children no more.

Pulling away, yet growing closer than ever.
A  lovely dilemma, we desire to ignore.
Apprehensive, we closed each others doors,
Holding on each others knobs with gusto.
Our hearts stopped spilling love, but our ribs are breaking.

Cold shoulders, warm chests.
Light years apart, our consciousness still collide.
We look away, but our hearts pump longing for each other.

Why does the world conspire against the eccentric?
Unique is wrong, creativity ostracized.
Numb, blind, masses choose to remain.
Being true to oneself, criminalized.
Like candles whiffed one by one, extraordinary is now a scarcity.
Aristocracy calls for the illiterate, not the enlightened.
We’re surrounded by advancements that dull our minds.
When will we realize, herded we are?
When will we realize, we are assumed usufruct by the elite?
Common folk desensitize incessantly at death’s door.
Robbed of creative thought and ingenuity.
Tolerate, embrace, assimilate, so it seems.
Breaking status-quo is just vagrancy.

I guess I didn't reflect it well.
I guess I was too shy, too reserved—it felt cold.
But to picture you speak out the words typed in my screen,
And to impress your voice in my head like a song.
I felt the happiness of a child, achieving a milestone in his life.
Too see your lips turn up, untroubled by prejudice.
Too see your eyes stare at mine, free of malice.
I felt the world was working with me.
But clocks can't scream urgency.
Books can't hug you.
I wish you knew how much those little things mattered to me.
If only you knew, that I was about to overcome my silence.

Touched consciousness,
Thoughts intertwined.
Cold sweat, palpitating heart.
A sweet nightmare urgently truncated.
Hurting, I hugged harsh reality.