Time.

It really does hurt your mind

When it comes to achieve the unachievable

In an era of brut mechanicals

Where your intellect is watching from the sides

Shouting at your manners 

Trying to redeem your whole maneuver.

But you don't hear a thing.

You are only incline to pursue your what you were told to do:

Doing, and doing, and over doing, and pushing, and getting, and reaching, and never stopping.

But always for nothing.

But you, nevertheless, killing

At the thing you're already grieving

Because fiercely wanting to obtain the new thing

In search for new sensations to overcome the falling.

Your thirst for fulfillment is endless

But you're still very much filled with emptiness,

Because not enough of this,

And never enough of that.

And before you know it,

Ellipse,

It's already over.

I can’t move, I can’t speak.

I am all left alone to my own speech.

In my head and in my mouth

A taste of being deprived from meaning

As if not enough madness was coming in traverse.

Stop pushing me around the corners;

They are bold and sharp

And you know life is round and grey.

I believe in what I believe.

I wanna believe that.

I don’t want to hear what the rest have to say

When they are confused by their own misguided beliefs.

I am absentminded, because I choose to be.

Success, progress, craziness?

You ought to change your vocabulary.

But you,

My sweet consciousness,

I believe you know what I mean.

Am I right?

Why are you running away from this?

I am here.

Not really here though.

But my body is

And my mind is hurt.

Please don’t run away from this.

I am not looking for comfort;

I can’t take it as of now.

But why this sudden urge

To leave and piss on my sorrow?

I am broken, but not for long.

I know you know that I know that you know;

So why do you go?

I am speaking in a language you might not recognize

But I expected you to see beneath the twisted tongue.

I can hear you lurking from afar

Bumping at the detriments and closing the argument,

Angry at me for being angry at myself.

Only compassion, from a distance, anyway,

Would of been enough:

A small cough to notify your acknowledgment.

I am preoccupied, and you are gone.

Don’t run away from this,

I am begging you.

It’s just not the way to go.

Don't let time win this round.

Just turn around so we can try and break the cycle.