Title-less

Title-less

I’m standing in front of you.
BAIL.

I was hoping that you grew

But that you was nothing but a tall tale.
Stale.

You would’ve been number three,

But nothing about you grew.

That had me looking at pale.

Tachycardia

Tachycardia

– 75 beats per minute –

6:47 AM: the sun rises as my feet drop down onto the carpet.

7:50 AM: volume reads “max” as I pull out of my driveway.

9:00 AM: an enthusiastic “hello!” echoes through the room as I’m approached by my target.

. . . . . . . . .

5:15 PM: volume reads “max” as I pull away from the labor of my day.

5:18 PM: lyrics touch me in a way that’s almost karmic.

Time no longer exists.
Every sound, every feel, every sense, stuck in a world of grey.

And then there’s you.

– 115 beats per minute –

7:06 PM: my eyes glued to your words as if they need to be guarded.

7:16 PM: all of my attention on the 4 inch display, just waiting for you to play.

9:45 PM: no words. no symbols. no activity. Just as you’ve done to my heart, I’ve done to these feelings of today, discarded.

– 60 beats per minute –