Every everything
The ever passing seconds are dreams each within it's own. Dreams of yesterday and tomorrow. Calmingly happy and terrorizingly anxious. For the mind does not sleep. Ever. It's never empty or hollow. Never null in a void state. As you fill it with your absence. Maximal effort is the constant bane of existence. As distractions are summoned with manifested disperse of thoughts and feelings. Trying to squeeze between the bars. This prison holding. Claustrophobic in seeming freedom of space. This too is an attempt. A repeat of this doom the soul is caged in. A venting for this diamond pressure the eons of torment have caused. A minimal bird's bite of a respite. For not really. Because you're constantly there. In every face that's scanned. Every partner. Own or otherwise, examined. Every memory cried over. Every dream failed. Every breath held. Every wound of the soul. Every measure. Every thought. Every action. Every second. Every everything. Eva