Three Months

I think the world has lost its rhyme and reason,

Turned upside down by the movement of our feet.

The clock ticks by and I wear the hour hand moves faster than the second hand,

And the minute hand isn’t there at all.

The rhythm of the world has reached a steady 180 bpm, 

But I’m still stuck at 170,

And as much as I plead my fingers to move faster

My brain to work quicker

My steps to be wider

It is to no avail, 

And I fall back into my old tempo once more.

I feel like we’re crescendoing endlessly,

Going up and up and up and we’re getting

Louder and louder and louder 

And I can barely hear anything else 

And I can’t block out the sound 

So I watch as we all head skyward, lost in the quarter notes in between.

But I’m slowly leaning into the rhythm,

Pretending like I know what’s happening,

Allowing me to catch up to where  I should be,

Even if I’m a little off-kilter.

The world is spinning faster than I think it is,

But I’m catching up the only way I know how.