Aching to sink further into the dirt
Into the grave, you built while pacing back and forth
Manifesting the prophecies you work so hard to avoid
Wrapped up in soiled stories of what could be,

You linger on the branches of a willow’s weep
Swinging from each somber lullaby into feathers that soar
Into the minds covered in clouds resting on the top of the world
Clarity is misguided when there’s more fun to be had amid the fog

Picking at the scab you know will bleed
You crave to reopen the wounds you know not to be ready
Eager for a dance against Time,
He laughs at your foolish attempts to hurry