I honestly feel like my emotions are broken.
Like cogs and gears in an old pocket watch they've stopped turning
in a normal fashion.
There is no winding,
there is no perpetual motion of the day,
there is only stillness upon a cracked, stalwart visage.
Perhaps you could once read the day and night upon my face,
count the seconds by my pulse,
keep eternity divided and categorized into tiny fractions.
The only fractions that remain are the fractured
internal pieces that feel no passage of anything.
Wrote this when I was avoiding going to a wedding.
Seems like everyone's finding that special someone. However, I propose a toast to being alone and sorting oneself out before dragging another into his or her mess.
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