when time stops to exist
I look out over the sea and all those broken empty houses floats around out there.
Children climbing on my old souls, my old selfs the self from long ago.
I look back, behind me and I see a church rising from the ocean surface with a spar reaching for the clouds.
I won't go back living in old broken homes but I have not yet got the gut to live in my blazing church, it takes a journey to get there and I'm still on the road.
My life is like the ever moving sundial and spinning faster than my eye can comprehend. I imagine I have all the time in the world, but what is all the time in the world, and am I steeling time away.
Friends pass me by and we pretend to see eye to eye, I miss the lessons learned. Strangers tell me: you're beautiful.
I fake wake up to a mess, with fake feelings and a time that does not exist.