steel-bred

you know i dont know
you,
and i still
think i need to, for
some reason beyond
who i am, or you...
and it seems
the days, these clock hands
drag by, with
heavy tocks and
steel-bred heart shaped locks...

and, you, well, you...
i still don't know
your definition
of the future, loose-
spun webs of assumption,
that i'm permanent
and full of smile, constant;

you, different you,
beyond me you,
maybe you save me
you...
what can i do
but sit, clutter
all around me,
flying by me,
staring down the hands
that will soon
be mine.

k.

is there a possibility that someone you've never been able to touch, will eventually one day manifest? just randomly, on a tuesday afternoon, all of a sudden everything you have never heard comes pouring from them and into your head, and all that you had planned to do with that information instead turns on you...

ugh, psychobabble bullshit. i seem to always be pushing the hands on the clock, wanting what i know is meant for me, but for a later me... not presently.... i think the last thing i need to do is think about opening up heart-shaped locks...

maybe they are shaped that way for a good reason.