Fades with Time ((talking in circles))

Vicious cycles lead to speaking-
talking in circular ways-
fake smiles lead to dying-
blue skies now turn to grey.

Talking in these circles,
maybe I can talk myself into a black hole.
Swirling mass of light and dark,
maybe-just maybe- i could be beautiful.

Mind works in backwards words,
bleeding out poetic little rhymes.
Highly aware of the cuckoo clock noises;
highly aware of lost and/or wasted time

Did you write love on her wrist?
She wrote you poems there...
All she ever truly wanted
was to know that somebody would always care.

Thousands of words written in circles,
circles that always seem to rhyme.
Glittering black holes collapse into each other,
hope that reality fades with time...