| I float upon beliefs and memories, just pencil marks on paper. I push past the wall to find a clock, ticking these moments away. the image blurs and fades, the red bleeding into the green, making awful shades of brown and gray, like murky water to fall into, to drown in. the string of lies and truths, the difference between age and youth, the way we clash, that connects our heart and hands, breaks like glass. (crash) shattered, a reason to hold on to love and life. gone, the image of light and laughter. broken. broken, once again, by these deafening screams, and silences, confusion, like storms, in my heart. tick-tock. yet I'm still hoping for a happy ending. |