control, my dear,
is nothing you own.
it’s an illusion you’ve been clinging to.
your beautiful picture is peeling.
it’s outdated and needs to be replaced.
watch the sand slip through your fingers
the tighter you clench your fist.
it’s running out.
the clock keeps running
as the clouds melt on your cheeks.
let it run off
let it go
let it bleed
control, my dear, is nothing you have.
you’re lying to yourself
let’s start a new story
turn the page
grab a new blank page
but what I am writing?
what’s my story?
my dear, it hasn’t been written yet