Time

Time is a strange concept;

we breathe in and out, then three seconds have already passed.

Then we do it again,

then again.

Until we have been breathing for ninety years,

and we are dead in a bed we have been in for three days.

No one has found us;

we are rotting next to piles of medication we take for all of our weaknesses.

Our time is up, and what have we done with it?

For many, the answer is nothing;

nothing but lie and cheat and steal and harass the people we claim to love.

I want to do something with my breath;

to breathe life into the mouths of those who are suffocating,

those who crave something more than the normal air.

I am so tired of this oxygen, it is suffocating me.

Someone please show how to live my time differently,

teach me how to show all my love, feel my hurt, hear my own voice.

I don’t want to rot in a lonely bed like the others often do.

I need my minutes to count,

to mean something.

I want to live like I am dying.

 

Author: Chloe Russell

Life is strange and people are complicated, and that is why I love to write.

6 thoughts on “Time”

  1. I relate to this on a deep note. I have always been obsessed with leaving my mark. Just always remember, all you have to do is be there for someone, give them advice, to start a chain reaction. What you do for them, they will do for someone else. You can change the world just by giving someone a kind word.

  3. I absolutely LOVE this. I think sometimes we take time for granted, but we can learn to appreciate it reading this.

  4. That’s always stressed nowadays. Live like the day is your last, YOLO, and whatever else people come up with. Even that chocolate company jumped on with that bandwagon. But your poem is beautiful, and it’s true. No one wants to be forgotten or think that their life has no meaning. Everyone wants to know their purpose for being put here, and we make that our soul’s mission to find out. With that being said, I hope you find your purpose soon if you haven’t already

  5. This is something really thought provoking, and I find that a lot of us don’t think about the passage of time like we should be.

  6. Aren’t we all living like we’re dying? Life is just slowly dying. Woah that was way more poetic than I wanted to be.

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