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.
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.
My back aches,
my joints seem to be locked into place
as the blankets fall
and the cool moves in.
Goosebumps rise up and all over my skin,
as do my interests to see your face
as your blankets fall,
and the cold air meets your skin.
The sun beamed down making you look like an assortment of the heavens.
My breath was taken as I stood watching it all take place.
Your face, it broke into a thousands letters,
and I broke into a thousand more that could not be made into sentences.
I saw it written all over your face.
Each time you blinked I saw more and more words,
Every time you took a breath,
you capitalized your letters.
And as you took your steps,
you placed an emphasis on your very last period that
marked the end of your words,
and the end of
I fell deep into my thoughts,
swirling and stumbling all over them.
They played such an uncanny rythm 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.