xxxi. VAST DETAIL INTO A PAST UNKNOWN.
it's these words that we take for grantedmoments like these we tend to forget
wrapped up in time where worrying is more in shaky hands than enjoying what lies in front of them and it's sad when you grow older and you look back and you can't remember a single thing besides every time anxiety was stuck in your veins pumping your heart at a rate that it pounded furiously at the cage it's locked in
and you try so hard
you dig and claw and search with a magnifying glass for the memories of the good
when life was in the crevasses too dark for you to see what lied ahead so instead of looking for a flashlight you stood outside and took in where your feet were placed and how the birds sung so beautifully that you would here the tune in everything and everywhere
it's when we stop being selfish of the time we have
and start looking around us on roads we've drove down since we were five and finding more meaning in the lines racing forward
than where dead ends collide.
YOU ARE READING
on this day.
Poésiexvii, april. (ii). these words speak louder than i ever will. © playlist poetry h.r. : #55
