I told her a poem once

Titled “Brunswick New Jersey”
A place I’ve never been
with darkened skies from towering plumes billowing smoke into the air
Seeping down to the very pores of unsuspecting citizens soon infected with vile machinations not understood, merely shifting the population at its very whim.

Where Gravel spreads crunching underneath boots worn from days spent battling against the clock, loose aglets hitting ankles in unheard thunderous claps as the new gods lay waste to what the old gods wrought

Where gray tones reign supreme in a never ending cycle of despair

I’ve never been there; but I feel the clock lurching forward despite how hard I press against the hands of time;
hours, not seconds, seem to slip through my fingers while I hold her tighter in a bed we’ve shared together so many times, but not nearly enough.

Water forms in the corners of the eyes as days slip past like seconds in the hourglass,
I plead for just a few seconds more, just a few seconds more and I wonder if this is what death is like

But I’ve been there; in the throes, knowing the next second could be my last
Yet I didn’t feel the remorse; the question of whether I spent too much time looking at the TV, and not enough time stealing glances at her in an obvious motion so she’d smile at me

I didn’t feel the remorse of whether or not I kissed her enough,
if I told her I loved her enough,

I didn’t feel the remorse of falling asleep first after joining together and hearing the sweeter whispers of passionate love in my ear

I only wish I could go back; and freeze time,
I only wish I could stop the clock all together.