Time: but an illusion.
I stand before the endless ticking,
counting broken moments
and call them "seconds"
but each one seems like the first.
Following the weak rhythm of heartbeat
until it is strong again,
until the pain fades,
till the sands of this illusion
bury you out of sight.
Jul 3, 2017
Jul 3, 2017 at 12:30 AM UTC
Time: but an illusion.
I stand before the endless ticking,
counting broken moments
and call them "seconds"
but each one seems like the first.
Following the weak rhythm of heartbeat
until it is strong again,
until the pain fades,
till the sands of this illusion
bury you out of sight.
If forgetting is a part of healing, I'm certainly not there yet.
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