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Rated: ASR · Prose · Death · #1772002
Unable to percieve the pace of time
Mundane, but I have to anyway,
Hear her voice
She asks me how
She asks me when
She asks me why
I blink and shrug my bare shoulders
Her wind has ousted what once covered me
The days have gone by so fast

I manage to repeat history in itself
Over and over, daily I wallow
Until numbness breeds me
In, out and throughout

My breathing continues
My thoughts, they never change
Over and over, daily I wallow
Like a barren tree crying out in drought

Almost dead, I am.
Watching the days rush past me
I continue to ignore her tempestuous dry questions
The days have gone by so fast

I hear her voice
But feel nothing inside
The sun goes up
But the sooner it falls
I hold on to my breath
Over and over, knowing
I am almost dead
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