...and so time
continues to gobble itself up;
the only dog
to ever catch it's own tail.

I'm wishing to stop
and willing to last.

All the while,
a hypocrite shrouded
by my own inability
to escape self doubt.

I cling to the moment
before decision, audaciously
battling consternation
I bid time to speed past.

caught in
petulant impatience, I question...

shall I forfeit
myself to hell?
or shall I wedge myself
in the gap

of  days past,
and days
I cannot cease
from escaping my grasp.


I linger a moment longer
on a thought I often ponder...

What's the point
in living fast?
I'd rather lay in the grass
and finish last.


C.e.M. 12.23.14