You watch and wait for time to take all that it can from inside your soul.

It's wasted, the money you spent on time, you could have paid half to indulge on the mere portion of life you've tasted.

This earth, we've gradually graced it - and meaninglessly traced it - in books and photos and missed the memo reminding us to live.

The moment you chose to give up that argument - and all the energy you spent on settling for loving.

These blues and grays sometimes consume the days in which you could be laughing.

Lost in the echo of the static cracking of the voice maintained in quivering.

The shivering of the cold beyond the false control of everyone who has it together.

When problems weigh that of a feather.