titles rarely make sense

been almost two years
and time seems static
stuck in my sequence of words
and my puffy eyed world
they still build me
they still repulse me

how to escape oneself
like staring at a lizard
for so long
that time becomes irrelevant

and static
but only as a conclusion

wakes me up with a startle
this hope that i carry
so hatefully
so passionately
so endlessly

i know these words mean nothing
they don’t exist
because they are unseen
and that is why they matter
in their creation
and their spite