I feel my life is cycling itself
from future to present.
My past is no longer existent.
I find it difficult to re-member
the stories that came
before I remember
that are after
that come into now,
cycling back from the future.
I’ve written this before, read this before, saw this before, did this already.
I think the dream is malfunctioning.
Maybe I cracked the code
to my own world
and it’s all ready for the ‘happened already’, happening again,
but different this time if I choose it; different results but just the same.
Maybe I’m stuck in the cog.
Maybe I’m the one who malfunctioned.
I know what you haven’t yet said already
as you fade in and out of a revolving mess in my head.
I’ve already been here, already done this, already said this, already felt it.
Didn’t you say that tomorrow? No. I never said that. Huh? But I heard you say that tomorrow.
It’s tomorrow and now you say it just as I heard it, but you don’t remember.
So, where’s the discography going now?
Doesn’t matter, I guess, I’m stuck on a cog
like a sit n spin whirling round and round
as I lean in to move faster
and out to feel the spin.
I’ll wait here until you all catch up.
I’ll spin here until you sit with me laughing
not knowing how we got here or when.
And laughing all the same.