Cameo Clocks.

I questioned time today.
What makes something worth our time more than something else?
What is *really* valid for spending it on?
Is work worth my time?
Or relationships?
Time spent reading or writing?
Time spent with music?
What about time spent alone?
I swallowed a clock and was swept away in the crest of a wave.
Tic toc. Tic toc.



I have so much to say. So many filtering thoughts and images flinching through every pulse.
I was informed of my negativity. How my writings are dark and scary. It may have been a poking finger, a slam down, but it had truth. Maybe I shouldn't bare my soul for those who choose to read to see. That should be kept in private perhaps. Everything should be written down in journals, where they can join the other heaps and stacks of them filled to the brim. I won't write the scary nightmares, the anxiety, the anguish anymore. I am sorry if I offended others. I guess only positive things for now on. I can be fake too. I can flash a smile. 


..turn over a new leaf..

There are so many colours on this earth that correlate and work together--like the bursts of orange and pinks in a sunset. Slate grey and black on a rainy day.
The bright green in a frog's eye with black pupils. Golden summers and blue, clear skies.
We're the colours. We work together.
You're all the colours that paint a beautiful picture.
Baby, you're remarkable.
This morning I woke up to tell you I love you.
Because I do.
And always will.