Is it just me?

A poem about time and existng.

There's always a second to just stop,
It seems.
A moment, an hour, a day, a measly week.
These moments seem so insignificant,
It's really when they blend together that they
Begin to disappear and go to waste.

Do you ever just lie down, lazy, lethargic,
Sleep calling your name, hazy, tantalizing sleep,
And you're inebrieated from a lack of it,
But somehow unable to shut your eyes and
Stop your thoughts? So you just lie there, letting
Them swirl and grind and make a bunch of noise,
And listen to your heartbeat, and the pumping of
Blood in every vein and your clenching stomach
And twitching nervous system and just realize that
This is what it feels like to exist?

And every moment passes slower under your examination,
As you take a magnifying glass to time and watch,
And think that maybe if you do this forever, it won't fall between your fingers like water.
But it will. It always does, that tricky b*****d always waits.
And outsmarts you.
By ten minutes, an hour, later today or tomorrow,
Time will have pushed you along, and you'll forget
The stutter of your heart and what it feels like to exist!

Author's Note

Please critique!!!! I'm only trying to improve. Thanks for being constructive in advance.

Reviews

[mattavelli]

Hello, Anna! :)
I really like this poem. Your thoughts are clearly expressed and relatable, summed up in irony.
" it won't fall in between your fingers like water." - I suggest removing the word "in" from this line.
What's your favorite bukowski poem?

[Anna White]

Thanks so much for the review! I will definitely remove that word, I think it flows better without it.