It's 12 on my

Is it midnight or noon?

What does it matter?

It's the same whichever way I look

The maddening mirrors!

Moments coalesce

And time becomes an illusion

Like the saying

That all things get better in due time

No, I lied

It once rained

Now it pours

I'm caught in the crossfire

Guess it's my turn again

So fast

Stay longer at the neighbors', please.

~Bubekay~

I was young and carefree. Free to make my mistakes or choices as I thought them to be at the time. Get all passionate about my ideologies. Get worked up about the first kiss, first date, prom night, and college plans. When it all changed? I can't tell for sure. Why? Because it didn't happen suddenly. All along in my subconscious, the changes infiltrated the fortress of my consciousness not like a battalion but in wee doses, I could handle until they matured for what they always were. Some are broken in their denial, others humbled in their acceptance and the other group got what they always wanted... Or so we thought. I belong to neither of the groups, I'm still in transit I guess; neither here nor there.

Some days a desperateness to set right whatever I had done wrong claws at my chest. But the past is out of my reach to create any effect and wish it could be just that and not an engineer of the present. My plans for the future? I hope to create conscious changes this time, to be in charge of what alters and what stays the same. Heavy plan? Yeah.

Seated and garbed in silence of the solitude of the confines of walls and scepters, I ponder on the woes fruiting from naught but a wee moment of cherished fulfillment

A boot to the jaw preceeds the rattling of his Mr White, a sweet prelude to the gore of red and enamel on asphalt. The eagle swoops and grabs me its prey through the rigours of the wig until I'm seated and garbed in silence

Now the only rattling is of bars, the only boots those of the eagles. Dreary and forlorn, I look on to the bills to be free again but for a while I'll be seated and garbed in silence.