February 2016

I’m running,
I’m running to something
that’s always too far out of my reach.
I’m chasing,
I’m chasing the clock 
and everything it holds.
it rolls
it rolls on,
laughing in my face.
taunting me.

I am fluid and in control
and everything in between.
I pick at the grass below
to buy me some time
but it’s all backward
and it’s all swirling
out of control
out of control
out of control
out