It's Not The Time

there was a time for question

i asked too many

is the answer 

only a suggestion?

i'm done sending search signals 

hoping to find land

i once questioned a continuum

silence greeted me with one solemn outstretched hand

there was a time for love

and i misplaced it for infatuation

i shouldn't need to speak on this subject

though i won't say i'm above 

i'm done with love

it's useless to me at this point in time

avoidance is my strategy still

i won't deny it's something i would like 

there was a time for misery

but now i can't escape it

shot in the brain with impetuous blithe

so i stumble out dizzily 

i'm done with misery but am i?

i still long for it's idyllic haze 

a shower so blistering hot that it's cold

i awoke in august but i hadn't slept for days

there was a time for anger

it boiled over as they all do 

stinging like alcohol 

cleaning my flesh till i look like a stranger

but i'm not done with anger 

i cannot breathe when it is stuck in my throat 

i cannot eat when it burns a hole through my abdomen  

i cannot sleep when it hides under my itchy scared skin

most associate it with heat 

or the color red

in my opinion it's the way 

ice breaks a beaker 

when water is frozen

taking ages to freeze and demise

then bursting all at once

what a surprise 

i can move past death and life 

but i can't move past this boiling inside

i can't move past the imbalance in this world 

i can't move past the unfairness for

it is cold as a knife