I used to think it too an eternity
For an hour to go by.
Now, an hour feels like minutes
And months feel like days.
Time gone quicker than it came.
Moments escaping, opportunities lost.
Life being lived with out even realizing it.
Too busy to stop and live in the present,
Too busy to take a risk,
To take a drive just because,
To feel the wind in your hair,
Or the rain drops on your cheek.
And you know this feeling,
But you don’t change.
So life continues to pass you by,
And you miss the best moments
Because you were tired,
Or had other things to do.
And when the clock stops ticking,
When it’s finally too late,
Will you look back with a smile?
Will you be proud of what you have become
And the memories you have?
Or will you look back with regret
For a life that was never lived?
Don’t wait to die with regrets.
Take a moment, breath in the air,
Don’t just inhale.
Recognize each day as new
And remember you don’t have eternity,
And life’s clock is ticking,
As days continue to feel like hours…
I have this feeling.
Something isn’t right.
My life is missing a piece,
And I can’t find it.
I have tried searching,
Never finding what I need.
Always feeling overlooked.
Most days I try to understand,
And accept that the piece will never be found,
That I’m not meant to have it.
And ever so slowly,
My heart breaks.
I feel tears in my eyes,
As I ask in silence,
“Will I ever be whole?”
I close my eyes
And imagine finding the piece.
A second of completion.
But when I open my eyes,
And I shatter into pieces.
I can’t understand this,
Why you’re always on my mind,
And why I can’t escape it.
Taking over thoughts that don’t belong to you.
Capturing memories, and destroying them.
Leaving nothing untouched.
You carry on, and I am left to suffer,
To be tortured with your memory,
To by quietly alone with the thought of you.
To remember the unbearable,
Of love once shared,
Then broken in a single moment,
And a heart broken along with it…
Usually I don’t feel the need to explain my poetry, but a strange theme of missing someone, or missing a part of myself due to someone has been occurring a lot in my poetry, and I honestly don’t know why. I have no idea who it could be about, but I think my subconscious knows and is pressing the issue. At any rate, I’m happy to finally have some new writing to post. I feel like it’s been way too long. I may write a journal blog in the coming days if I have some extra time.