Apr 2015
I'm collecting each passing moment
with a pinch of salt and sugar
sprinkled in my memory
One, two, three shakers full.
but the sands of time keep slipping
through my mortal fingers
I keep an empty jar on the top shelf.
and everything else is a blinding mishmash
of my mind in the morning light.*
Please don't look under the bed, it's embarrassing
what I forget to think about.
with a pinch of salt and sugar
sprinkled in my memory
One, two, three shakers full.
but the sands of time keep slipping
through my mortal fingers
I keep an empty jar on the top shelf.
and everything else is a blinding mishmash
of my mind in the morning light.*
Please don't look under the bed, it's embarrassing
what I forget to think about.
Day 7 of NaPoWriMo.
About trying to keep track of what this life means to me, but not getting very far. Also, I'm not a morning person, so that's obviously when everything falls apart.
About trying to keep track of what this life means to me, but not getting very far. Also, I'm not a morning person, so that's obviously when everything falls apart.
