Wednesday, August 4, 2010
it's amazing to me how sometimes it comes and goes as frequently as it does.
complete infatuation dissolves into that dull void.
that murky feeling creeps up on you and your interest weens.
your mind takes over and you begin to question each and every detail, every glance, every word muttered between quivery lips.
it has become a part of your cycle.
turning loads of laundry over in your mind.
the value of each step has been softened.
echos on wood floors replaced with muffled stiff feet.
that monotonous pattern tapping the needle of a metronome.
each click louder than the next, pounding a drum against your ear.
so you move in time with the beat and your interest wanes a little more with each swing of that arm.
a tick becomes a tock, then on and on.
i just want the motion to stop.
leave me be in that time when there were no drums.
no metronome knew of my existance.
back when i only heard the beating of a heart muffled by bone, flesh, and emotion.