i can get so
obsessed with the now
i forget the construct
of time keeps flowing
until now becomes then
and the future is
suddenly and inexplicably
now with no warning

i lose months
in the minutiae
in a story
or a pit i dug
seeking an escape

it’s nearly xmas
not that it matters
yet it is
and i chase phantoms
while the ones who
choose to visit
only remind me of
lessons learned and
new scars earned
there is no epiphany
accompanying my waking
no sudden set repairing
the fractured mind
just a swollen dreamcatcher
and sparrows serenading

it is easy
to feel like the only
person who partially exists
when time spins
manically
and you sit
lost in your skull
choking on i love yous
gone to ash
on a tarnished golden tongue