Thursday Morning

My reality shifts from one swift and peacful to a more disruptive and warped

It might be that time

gravity becomes a becomes a burden and like a new born i must adjust

It's looks like it really that time

The softness of the towel makes me nostalgic to the bed i was just in

Oh yea, it's that time

The water comes down cold and hard but then knows its place and becomes warm and comfortable,

It really is that time

Foolishly, I dress my self as if time was made up by an three year old toddler...its not

I can't believe that the time...