Time (And Relative Dimension In Space)

It’s an odd thing –

Being so young and yet feeling like my life is already over

I haven’t had enough experience to be able to say

“I have lived”

But time has already begun to fade,

Days and weeks blur together and I cling to routine

Even as I fight against my own complacency.

Being young and lifeless makes it hard for planting dreams,

Like seeds on concrete they wither in the light of every new day.

Why continue planting when the soil is the same?

I watch those around me grow and drift away

But I feel rooted,

Unintentionally.

I’ve never wanted to stay in one place and yet I find myself unable to move.

I strain against the comfort of normalcy,

The very thought of settling down setting my skin to crawling

Because there’s so much I want to do,

And so little time in which to do it.

Am I 19 or 93?

Sometimes I forget how short my time has been,

Too focused on changing, on growing

That I send my consciousness to the stratosphere

Where it lingers for minutes

Or maybe for centuries.