it all occurs way too quickly,
moments flicker with every
little death, every time I fall asleep,
between shifts is an eternal rift,
gobbling down searing green numbers
that stare from  the oven,
as if whispering, "your times 'a coming,"
when I  next wake up
will I be forty-five?
will I even be alive--

So I slow mo time flow by
getting my mind blown,
each second feeling vital,
their veins pulsing with a solution,
an intangible answer,
I have only to ask
the right question...