Something that runs from regret
Something that runs to forget
Something that used to come, but now goes.
Something that moves fast, but also slow.
Time.
The tick-tock of the clock
And the hands that dictate appointments and the seasons.
We are tethered to tick-tock
So summer comes and goes
And we forget how slow time went
Until we see the first glimpse of snow
And we remember
Just how fast the tick-tock goes.
I am changing faster than the hands can follow
A glimpse, a song, and then I am different
A word of mouth and a sinner’s prayer
A moment of ugly that keeps me there.
But the tick tock of the clock is slower than I--
Two steps back.
Patient rewind.
Only then will I again be friends with
Time.
