Written for Between Insanity and Brilliance: Stories and Poems from the Basement of Discontent
I’m sitting on the verge of yesterday, three ticks away. Scared to breathe and lose this moment. Your eyes are travelling right into my soul and your hands have never been warmer. Why do good things have to end, yet hard times last forever? When tomorrow comes right now will be nothing but the past, an iron clad memory in my head. But memories fade, so I’m clinging on to now. But there’s only seconds left. Gasp. It’s gone and yesterday is now just that.