MissileOfUncertainty

The Story Of Procrastination

The walls are closing in. 

Every strangled breath hangs in the air. 

My heart threatens to escape my broken ribs; 

If it’s incessant beating is any hint. 

 

I’m suddenly reminded of when I wasn’t alone. 

When the broken part of me was whole. 

 

What an ironic time,

To be brought back to the past. 

When my future is holding me back. 

 

Is fear the reason that I haven’t moved on?

It’s an addictive rhythm to a frightening song. 

When the tune is stuck in my head, 

My foot can’t help but tap with it. 

 

Is this where it ends?

When we can no longer venture forth?

With so much time but no aspiration. 

I question myself with exasperation.

 

Why won’t I move?

Why can’t I make myself believe?

I’m stuck in this place that I can barely breath. 

And for some reason, I’ve just let that be. 

 

I’m wasting away. 

My bones crumbling to dust,

And the worst part is,

I destined myself to this. 

 

‘Nothing’ is my temptation,

And this is the story of my procrastination. 

 

Comments2

  • G84

    It always fascinates me the concept of time, it always existed yet we labelled and measured it and in doing so developed an obsession with numbers which we placed on clocks so we quite literally watch time tick away!
    For me personally I always feel like time is running out but it never is it’s juss how it is perceived.

    A thought provoking poem which can 100% relate to, almost like the rabbit from Alice in wonderland - no time to stop!

    • MissileOfUncertainty

      Honestly? Same though. Sometimes I’ll just sit here and think about how each moment that passes is a moment that I no longer have. And it’s terrifying.

      • G84

        Then I guess the question is:

        Do you live harmoniously for a day?
        Or the rest of you're obsessing this way?

        :)

        I still have my moments now, it can be consuming, but I always think about how id like to feel if I was old and on my death bed. Full of fear looking back seeing nothing but what I was feeling now. Or to have lived like death was always right in front of me.

      • Medusx

        Time is frustratingly fluid though. When you're avoiding or dreading something, it seems like there's never enough time, but as soon as you're waiting, looking forward to something, minutes just don't go quick enough, let alone months.



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