Slow down.

Slow down.
Do you even know where you are?

I need to get this done;
I don't know why.

It's just on, and on, and on:
a hammer against a wall.
It never stops:
it never will.

I used to feel love.
Now I don't feel love at all.
It's all a rush:
I don't know where I am.

Targets, deadlines,
home again:
music, dinner,
calm,
silence,
loneliness,

furnishings,
organisation;
the cat's
dinner.

I saw you at
the bus stop
the other day
and I couldn't help
but smile:

you were smiling to yourself
and I felt
like bursting inside.

You have no idea
how beautiful you are
and how much
I want to preserve
this feeling.

But it goes;
it all goes

(and I want it
to all go
to you.)