Faster Forward

Milliseconds pass faster than cash can last, Time flies by, leaving nothing to stash,
Time of day, but the suns gone so hey, is that right, why don't we say time of night?;

Moving forward faster than the pace of speeding of light, which when transmuted to be perceived by the brain as sight,I live one blip at a time, but when the time is right, I'm all growzed up now, getting older as cells begin to fight;

Second hand is present, but ignored just like its first, firstly overlooked, invisible, like the presence of a curse. You can feel it, know its there, dare not say it, make you scared;

 Just live it, ignoring its existence persistently remaining distanced, like a restraining ordered carpel tunnel telling you to your wrist is, not healing, but not broken, not feeling like its been token;

Outta breath and can't guess why the heck you feeling choking, dust... up in the air, clouds be smoking, the grinzel hairs, needing oxygen, no matter how much you gasp it's not there again;

Misplaced, reallocation, carnivorous pears need medication, not there to be stagnation, always moving like creation;

It is, or is it ism? is it ist, ing ed, or can it be presumed, that the suffix that's required will be unveiled when most desired?;


Now if I got a lobotomy, in my frontal lobe, could it be possible that I'd changed forever to be slow? would I drool and not feel pain, emotions or notions to make me sustain, the kind of life I live, am I living in actuality;

What is living, what is giving, what is driving this mentality. Could it be that I have a craving for more congeniality, seconds pass and expiration's closer than before;

Yet for reasons unknown, without physical apprehension, intercognative devices interrogate my reluctance, leaving me to have to deal with resulting unappreciative dysfunction;

Dissociative disdain directing me to my recluse, thinking money makes it better, as dollars can be a noose-cents can be annoying. Bills are constantly destroying all the happy thoughts I have making my thoughts all be toying.

Playing games, singing songs, living now, living long. Seconds pass, time flies bye-bye, melting into a haze, turning into minutes which then turn into days;

 See you later, if not sooner, If I see you, don't act lunar. Which is to say do act out of this world, faster forward as we travel and our futures unfurled.