When it comes to you and I,
we're always running out of time.
Like the ticking of the clock against the silence of the night. Once acknowledged, it is deafening.
And I always knew that we would come to an end, I just didn't
know how, where or when.
And still, the moonlight
slips through
my
hands.
Try as I might,
there's no use in fighting-
gravity always wins. The grains fall.
My heart beats faster. Tension builds.
This is it. This is the end. But just when we're about to be done, about to run out of time... I take a deep breath, and turn it back over, once again.
YOU ARE READING
Petals And Poison: A Collection Of Poems
PoetryA collection of poetry based on the matters of love and infatuation. Longing and passion. Fondness and fervor. Beginnings and ends. Some of these originally manifested as songs, others I imagine in the style of spoken word. Some of their roots sprou...
