Talk some sense to me,
breathe in, time is slipping
the only thing we hold
and yet cannot ever own
Realization is the key
perception and misdirection
over-enthusiastic I am known to be,
but I never expected a birthday
beyond each last one
so to bust the bubble
and let it be seen
You cannot destroy someone
who never was whole to start.
But I am, I am, more than
you will ever see
but talk anyway, please,
time is fickle with me.
I have little care to wait for it
and less to wait on you.
It won’t matter tomorrow
but today, today,
sense matters today.