TimeO watch the date being written on the top of a page and I think about time, and years, and seconds and minutes, and nothing makes sense.Time by LittleMirelle
I think of hours becoming minutes and minutes ticking like seconds but not quite and not fast but not slow, never enough time. And like a white rabbit I chase after my clock and all I can do is drag you behind me tired and gasping for breath.
But time is relative like our perception of it, and in the clarity of your eyes upon me and the brush of your skin no moment is infinite and even though we have no end I can’t seem to find enough time.
Days pass us by in waking moments and yet I dream of you, beside you, because of you.
And yet we don’t have enough time, not 12 hours, not 7 days, our bodies and hands always seem to seek for more, never satisfied.
And another full moon will pass, and I will be waiting, for time to once more stop, upon you.
I like to belive that someday i will be able to publish a book, i have horrible gramar and im bad spelling but i love to write. I belive that words are more important than images (and i love images) when you describe somthing the rigth way it can transport you not only to that moment frozen and quept for ever but to the state of mind and heart as well. You give life to somthing, someone, and a new world is born. A world where you can be god.
Life is a beautiful thing, with al its colors, ands shades, smells and fealings. It is here to be embrased and endured