Wednesday, January 22, 2020

The days aren't nice, let me off the self propelling societal push.

It's on the go, its on the run
You just can't stop
The momentum.
It's consistent, its persistent
It seems like fun
But it's undone.
Cacophony of stress
A build up of muscle tension
But really it's all mental.
Not looking in a direction 
Just being pushed
Not sure how to brake the slippy slide.
I want to talk, I want to look
But time just keeps on keeping on.
And then the day is over 
And then I feel the burn
Of a constant propulsion.
Cry's.

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