Have you ever been so hopelessly
Lost in a moment
Intranced by something so far gone it seems to detach from you
And wander like it has its own mind.
Echoing the stachato of feet so far down the stairs that the way back looks like a tunnel
Of never ending shapes
So distinteresting from the vividity
That is the present thought
That you dream that you did not have to wake to the reality of the now
Like a kid looking through a window on Christmas eve all that bottled happiness lays behind the wall of the mind.
I often find myself window shopping down that hall
Hoping for a taste of what was
Aching to catch her before she gets to far away.
Oct 14, 2017
Oct 14, 2017 at 6:58 PM UTC
Have you ever been so hopelessly
Lost in a moment
Intranced by something so far gone it seems to detach from you
And wander like it has its own mind.
Echoing the stachato of feet so far down the stairs that the way back looks like a tunnel
Of never ending shapes
So distinteresting from the vividity
That is the present thought
That you dream that you did not have to wake to the reality of the now
Like a kid looking through a window on Christmas eve all that bottled happiness lays behind the wall of the mind.
I often find myself window shopping down that hall
Hoping for a taste of what was
Aching to catch her before she gets to far away.
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