ThaliaGrey

I hate clocks. Always reminding me of the one thing I'll never have enough of. Time. Time is always running out, or causing dead to writhe in your stomach. Think about it. As humans, when we have too much time we get sick of it. When we dint have enough we crave more. We are fickle beings. But not time. Not the clock on the wall that always shows us what we don't want to know. How long your sister has been in the hospital. How long until your wedding day. Sometimes they don't work, causing us to be late or early or somewhere imbetween. Darn you, clocks. And darn you time. I'm not ready to die, but when I do, I guess it won't matter anymore.

     Your eyes. They see me, but not as I should be. Stained shutters cover the windows to your soul, distorting my image outside the glass. I see you. Once I got to know you, the shutters were removed. Now I see you as you should be. As beautiful, perfect, artistic you. How much longer until you see me, too? I am waiting. I'll wait as long as I must until your shutters are removed. Then we can inspire others to remove the shutters on the windows to their soul.