Days seem to come and go, fading into my skin…
Disappearing, yet never really leaving.
Time lingers here, weighing down on my breaths.
And I’ve never wished so much, as I do today,
For it to be nothing more than an old shopping cart or dirty street sign…
Rather than what it is:
A color that doesn’t exist or a temperature that gives no degree…
Day after day,
The sun rises and the sun sets…
Time is time.
And it has soaked up every inch of me as I sit here and count every tic-tocking chime of its inevitable importance…
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem