All the pages of the calendar ran past
The fingers, arms, and face and the second counting hand
And for a second, I thought I had a real life plan
Then it turned out real life had a plan
I don't understand
Why
On the third time, these birthdays, for the first time
No head in the sand
I feel like a hundred grand saying "I am who I am"
Even without ionic, atomic, nuclear clocks ticking
I can feel I'm gaining time as the plot continues tricking
my mind and skin are thickening as I continue picking
and pricking the skin, like queen mab said
This world is a dream, sometimes its a nightmare
I'm happy, it seems, having something to share
Jul 14, 2017
Jul 14, 2017 at 11:12 AM UTC
All the pages of the calendar ran past
The fingers, arms, and face and the second counting hand
And for a second, I thought I had a real life plan
Then it turned out real life had a plan
I don't understand
Why
On the third time, these birthdays, for the first time
No head in the sand
I feel like a hundred grand saying "I am who I am"
Even without ionic, atomic, nuclear clocks ticking
I can feel I'm gaining time as the plot continues tricking
my mind and skin are thickening as I continue picking
and pricking the skin, like queen mab said
This world is a dream, sometimes its a nightmare
I'm happy, it seems, having something to share
A tradition I started a few years back to work out a poem on my birthday
