Demons of Time; Demons of Mind

I’m here again,
Still alone,
Because I don’t count,
Flashes on my phone,
As,
People that care being miles away,
Throwing kisses like love letters,
Barely aiming at all,
Stall-
-ing forever as I finally find,
That name or lack of address,
Poetic substance in my mind,
And try,
To stay sane by myself,
As I read other authors,
Who express more than self,
Who make me question my options,
And what exactly is hell?

Break it down simply,
Seven days in a week,
A total of one-hundred-sixty-eight,
Hours to press you to me,
But,
Of that triple digit number,
Of that chunk of my life,
I see you for two,
Maybe twice,
Inside those moments I’m happy,
I can’t believe that you’re mine,
But if my demons are hunting,
You’re giving them plenty of time.

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About brettspadaro

Attempting to complete a business degree in southern California. Dream big, act rationally. Go for what you believe in.

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