The world keeps on moving, as mine has stood still in silence.
Bustling to get around me as if I were a boulder atop the falls.
It seems unsettling that I can’t just freeze it all like a timekeeper’s watch so the winding would be mine alone.
Moving along with the crowd that keeps pushing.
Interned alone lost.
Some reason I’m here still.
Waiting to be gone.
llaura bullock 