Silver mist drapes over my thoughts,
like chemtrails painting the sky
I chase the sun but fall behind,
too many things, too little time.
The ticking clock, a distant drum,
a rhythm I can’t keep in line.
One step forward, two steps back,
the carousel spins, but it’s not mine.
The list is long, the days are short,
I hold my breath and dive too deep.
Every task’s a fleeting ghost,
whispering while I lose my sleep.
I see the world through scattered frames,
blurred like heat waves in July.
\"Baby, what\'s your sign?\" I don’t know,
just constellations passing by.
Dizzy dreams in neon blue,
another morning, another race.
A mind too wild to settle down
a heart too lost to find its place.