Time









We have no choice but to sit here,
On the edge of the cliff that we call Life.
That shadows our subconscious.
Waiting as everything consumes us.

Our anxiety, our doubt, our regret…
Our own thoughts,
Choking us,
As the air gets thinner.

We fight to be ourselves,
But it’s hard…
When our own bodies fight against us.
Threaten to put us over the edge.
A constant battle.
Where nobody wins.
Where so many, have already lost.

We struggle to be ourselves,
But we don’t know who that is.
I guess, none of us really, truly know…
We have no idea who we will be in the future.

We only know who we were in the past,
And that we are no longer that same person.
Either we’re glad that we finally saw the light,
Shining in our eyes,
Blinding us.
Or we strive to be that same person once again.
Because at some point in time,
Some sort of pain or loss or desire,
Has misled us all.

Society has stretched and shaped us.
Turning is into people we aren’t.
Some of us are grateful.
Happy that we finally “fit in”.
Others of us say that we fight back,
Stand out.
Be ourselves.
But in the end,
We all hang on to the edges
Of the invisible scale of light and dark.
As it continues to tip and sway in the wind.

We have no choice but to sit here and wait,
Hanging on with our fingertips,
Waiting for a rope to be thrown,
Only to find that it’s frayed.
And that yet again,
Another rescue mission has failed.

We wait for the world to consume us.
Just watching,
From the shelter of our broken homes,
All of the judging,
The labeling.
The phrases that ‘mean the most’,
Being spit left and right.
Losing their significance.

We have no choice but to sit here,
With our feet swinging over the edge.
Watching the rocks tumble far below.

We wait to be consumed,
By the melodies and rhythms.
By the memories of our youth,
Where everything was simpler
Compared to how it is now.
Where we didn’t know any better,
But to just be ourselves.

The flashbacks allow us to burrow in our minds.
Away from the world.

We trap ourselves in a place
Where we are judged the most,
Inside our own heads.
We confuse ourselves,
And tell ourselves that we are not enough.
We make ourselves feel worthless.
We make ourselves feel like a joke.
We construct scenarios,
To try and create our own happiness.
We know that they are not realistic.
That they will never happen.
But we know,
That these fake realities are still better
Than facing the world,
We watch out our front windows.

Soon we’ll once again,
Have to face the fact though,
That we can’t hide from ourselves.
Or anybody.
No matter how hard we try.

We peek over the ledge,
To the ground far below,
Watch the fire rise beneath our feet.
As the bullying,
The suicides,
The loss continues.
Because we believe,
There is nothing one person can do.
The rebellions,
The revolutions,
They all chase each other in an endless circle.
As we sit here,
And breathe in the grey ashes,
Of a relentless hope.

While happiness waits,
On the other side of the door,
Holding the key.
Where some people don’t even feel the need,
To send it away in the first place.
For some,
It waits like a firecracker.
Never knowing when it will burst.
Never knowing when it will die out.

Most of us can’t choose,
When happiness comes and goes.
We can’t look for it either.
We’ll never find it all,
Playing ‘Hide & Seek’ in the ashes.

We have no choice.
Fate chooses.

It lets the world consume us.
As we remain where we are,
And have always been.
In the seize of gravity.
In the seize of insanity.

Even if it’s no use,
We still hold on.
We still try,
All we can,
To loosen the grip of society.
The grip that grasps our wrists,
And rips everything from our hands.

We wait,
As we begin to back away from the drop,
Until the blackened ashes began to drift away.
Until the golden sun rays, not flames,
Begin to filter in through our tinted windows.
The sign of new possibilities.
The sign that things might start to change.

We wait.