Countdown

Excuse me for not seeing the beauty in the detail

For not seeing the light at the end of the black hole

For being narrow-minded

And for waking up at 12 with doomsday as my main goal.

My tunnel vision only sees oblivion
Making me oblivious to the superfluous, the
So much to capture, but I don't develop it, I just focus on the negatives.

I picture myself lost in a daze
Painting a grim portrait that always looks the same,
Even when I change my landscape
In every way, I've left the days behind and
Started summarizing my year at the beginning of January.

1
2
3

Call me a calendar, because my days are numbered

3
2
I’ve

Predicted every earthquake and ice age
Every anxiety attack and every cold shoulder.
Fragile as italics, I wish I were bolder
Excel at my wording when I'm conversing
with others
Deliver each point with power when I'm presenting

But my past holds me back to my roots

when nature teams up with nurture
my parents create the scenery
Predisposed to tethers and anchors
Dependence and Dumbbells
Then I tie myself down
to my own apathy
Sinking deeper
My only decision to stay stationary.

Well,
Away with the weights and the waiting
Let go of all of the fluctuating
From being hopeful
...
to running away.
Time is money, and spending my time right will pay off at the end of the day;
So I will weave my life into a basket
And put all of my eggs in it,
Sober up and designate myself to drive
Stop confusing speed bumps for stop signs,

Avoid putting metaphors on every line
and align myself with a stable state of mind.
So that I won't have to ask anyone else for the time of day:
It's mine to take.