I fear
the shafts of dawn...
I remember the treehouse,
haphazardly built...
From the recurring sun
that shuns my distress...
The bruises are
disappearing...
It was only for a few moments
but they were infinite...
Everything settles before me -
my breath...
And if by chance,
you thought I was that breeze...
Falling through the cracks of life
Blissfully unaware of strife...
She's hanging by her fingernails,
she's hanging by a thread...
one drop...
Time
is a fickle illusion that...
If you start joking too much,
people start to take you less seriously...