kayden heh Poet I do not know?

time flies

i sat reading a book
pondering on what i could ever possibly do
to make myself feel better
i glance at the clock
it is 2pm on a sullen sunday
i am filled with resentment

resentment towards myself,
towards them

they speak in a low tone
almost as if i cannot hear it,
as if i have to tune in to hear the muttering.

i take a glance into the mirror across from me
i do not recognize this face staring back at me
a bitter taste fills my mouth
what an odd face!
its not mine,
it doesnt feel right on this body.
so whose is it?

I look back at the clock,
it is now 8pm on this dreadful sunday.

where'd the time go?
i try to recall the time
nothing i can recollect in my mind,
i glance around the room.

the furnitures moved
and there happens to be notes left around,
it wasnt me leaving those notes,
they are in a different handwriting.

time flies.

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