I almost recall when time felt molten and lonely.
I can almost remember when time seemed to move slowly,
But time flies when you aren't getting anything done.
Then, I hid in myself. Now, I live at a run,
Get from places I was, try to find someplace good,
Or at least someplace unknown and misunderstood.
I tear through, explore these metaphorical parts.
I tear needle-width swaths through a new set of hearts.
I tear through my body and tear through my soul,
Leaving bruises and sprains, dislocations and holes.
In the unthinking effort of moving so fast
Through our lives, we forget all the timescapes we've passed.
It's a chore to keep track of the solstice, cross off dates,
Because calendars stay still, but their referent won't wait.
I can almost remember when time seemed to move slowly,
But time flies when you aren't getting anything done.
Then, I hid in myself. Now, I live at a run,
Get from places I was, try to find someplace good,
Or at least someplace unknown and misunderstood.
I tear through, explore these metaphorical parts.
I tear needle-width swaths through a new set of hearts.
I tear through my body and tear through my soul,
Leaving bruises and sprains, dislocations and holes.
In the unthinking effort of moving so fast
Through our lives, we forget all the timescapes we've passed.
It's a chore to keep track of the solstice, cross off dates,
Because calendars stay still, but their referent won't wait.
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