mercury falling.

days are coming faster, and you thought you could keep up? naivety will get the best of me. i promise.

dreams of you, and you coming back, and you saying just so, and you. the morning comes over with a quickness, swimming through mercury, gauging my hope to never wake up from this world you pushed into my mind, just for us.

how could you come back for just a night, a spent vision, leaving me alone when i wake up, sore stomach, salted eyes? it's not your fault, i just get angry sometimes.

this is just where we live, now. together only in constant shifting, only in subconscious tunnels. ourselves bound only by how much we let go. our hearts bound only with twine of memory.

but these days keep coming faster, putting more time in between now and what we used to be together, how we used to touch, who we used to be, what these pictures have to say about how i smile.

every morning, i'm swimming in this slick silver poison, measuring out my hope in contraction and expansion, attempting to sleep one more minute to catch that glimpse of you smirking, hear that turn of phrase, touch your face with my shaking hands.

but this day has come so fast, pulling cynicism right along behind it, that i can only see my rude awakening with a scowl wiped on and over my face, like slippery mercury, beading and falling, spattering on the floor, as my eyes flutter open.