Timing

What is the right time for love?

What is the right time?

But a fantasy, an excuse.

A cover we pull over our heads.

Saying we will be ok one day.

We peak out once in a while,

checking in on the world.

An emotional risk and we hide again,

flashbacks going through our mind.

Such a time doesn’t exist.

The cover needs to be ripped off,

A callous skin needed to survive.

Only created by risking yourself. 

Pain…lets us feel.

pain is wrong, but we know we exist.

I put myself back together 

every second, of every day. 

There is no break from it,

I try to help them too. 

The act gets played,

like I am fine. 

They act in the same play,

But I see through it. 

I want to extend a hand,

But it is refused. 

And I dream of a right time,

A fantasy, an excuse.

Author's Note

First Draft