Before it All.

How does one reverse the clocks back to a time in which lovers did not exist?

How does one reverse the clocks back to a time in which I did not know your face,

to a time in which I did not know your favorite movie, your favorite place.

How does one reverse the clocks back to a time in which my heart was innocent and true,

to a time in which the value of time did not circulate around you.

 

-TB-

Unwillingly Anchored.

My limbs are so tired.

I am weak by the realities of life.

Each new hardship that knocks on my door seemingly attaches to me,

like hooked anchors that quickly sink to the ocean floor.

Yet, how does one unhook the hooks in which seem impossible to release?

I stare at the numbers that glow at the time of hour that imposes one should be sleeping.

Yet, restlessness finds me like a plague that I cannot simply cough away;

I work hard to keep afloat the waves which cover the anchors that

have made a home here, with me.

 

-TB-

Leave-ing

I fell deep into my thoughts,

swirling and stumbling all over them.

They played such an uncanny rythm over

and over

and over

in my head–I couldn’t catch them.

As I swirled some more,

I looked up and noticed the dancing leaves

that could not be caught by the roaring winds.