It was methodical, the way I went through my day,
Up out of bed, right to the dresser, down to the ground,
Pajamas droop to the floor as I await to gather them,
Toss them into the hamper and turn left to leave the room.
I would exit and enter the bathroom, look at the mirror,
Brush my teeth in tiny circles I only hoped to be exact
As if I could control the precision of my existence.

I want to love
I want love
I will love
One day
Timidly
Before
I fall

Tears drop on the black concrete
The most satisfying lack of rhythm
I wonder why it soothes me
Through both the melancholy
And times of stress that come my way

I know
she doesn't
feel
the same
but the tempo of my heart shifts
from largo to presto
in the matter of seconds
even though my depression's at large
and feeling is hard.

She knows.

Is religion truly a theory or a hypothesis?

The hand of my clock turns to people.
Perhaps for a second,
Some for a minute,
But for you, my eyes can stare for hours on end
And dread the second strike of twelve
That ends such a beautiful day
But births such a beautiful newborn.

Love is the most aggressive of the emotions,
It can always **** any other feeling at any time it likes.