I thought I was time

Posted: November 27, 2015 in Artsy Poems, Blog Posts, Events, Reviews, Short Stories
Tags: , , , , , ,

Don’t we all loathe what it can turn into?
We curse the times we were sad,
we cry over wasted time,
Regret untimely decisions,
hate ourselves getting old and made of wrinkeled skin and bad eye sight,
Hate that time makes us choose things we don’t want for ourselves.
We hate the change time brings because we love our familiar little hut of wishes and ifs and would bes and what ifs.
We don’t forget, we don’t forgive, we don’t move on and we don’t want to.
We want to live the way we see fit and the way our heart lept into the heights of proud and happiness rather than sadness and adjustments.
We crave the life we had and we hate how time changed it all.
Why time?
Why do you change?
Why does it feel like you hate us?
All the clocks in the world pause for a second and we would consider it the end of the world and civilization.
Are you kidding me?
Do you even believe in civilization?
Stupid, haha. What is human?
A clock? Born when the seconds hand starts moving. Seconds turn into minutes and minutes turn into hours and the damn clock just keeps moving when we want it to hold itself because we want to see the moon more than the sun and the clouds more than the sky and thunder rather than clear skies.
We want to see ourselves cycling and playing and coloring books and eating almost melt icecream because these things matter to us.
Why do you steal all these things away? From us.
From us all.
We are all unusual, fragile and empty. But we are architects too.
We build our little cottage of bucket lists and comfort spots and you make the walls rust and crumble.
Is it just me?
I don’t know. Maybe.
Maybe not.
Maybe I want more. Maybe I want it all.
Maybe I want all time to be in the palm of my hand.
Or maybe I just want my time back.
I want to be myself again.
We all want ourselves in the mirror not some deranged fantasy of a human mind.
We want to live.
Our faces don’t shine, dear time.
Our eyes don’t sparkle. The butterflies are dead.
And all the plants in my wish garden too.
Why did you take all these things away?
I thought I was Timeless.
Clocks, time and regrets, #Invictus #IrumZahra #BeyondSanityPublishing
#igreads #bookstagram #bookstagrampak #books


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