I try to think back about the time I became aware,
back when I was young and in a restaurant and was told not to stare
Those stationary images still run throughout my mind,
I can’t get past the prologue, I keep clicking on rewind
What people don’t understand is that you can’t explain a brain;
there’s no diction, simple fiction, to explain the insane
A jungle of flowers and pitchforks and things that don’t belong,
a musician can play the same notes without singing the same song
But what if the song repeats?
What if the monotonous cycle of my brain stops playing the sick beats?
What if when I get scared, you get scared, and it becomes more than both you and I could have beared?
What then?
Can time define the sacred line it shines to bind the blind?
Does my mind tell your mind to switch thinking and become “less confined”?
Isn’t that society?
An anti-depressant to a disease that we’re supposed to appease?
uphold, to be bold, to influence and believe?
So, what if time stops?
What if the big clock suddenly stopped its tic-toc?
would clarity and spontaneity become my mental block?
Regardless what they think, only your brain defines insane and moves the castle without the crane.
You define time