Matter Of Time

Let’s count down

The

Weeks

That make

Up

A

Year.

But what is

Time

But

Relative

Realization

And 

A

Figure

Of

Our

Nonfiction?

Counting

The

Weeks

Makes

For

Living

Them

Like

Algorithms.

We compute

And

We

Commute,

But we 

Never

Create

What

We have

Already

Defined,

Time.

Time keeps

Us

Going,

But we use

Time as

A

Measurement,

Not

A

Means

Of

Movement.

We write

These

Words

To be

Self-evident,

That all the things

We hold

True

Take

A

Matter

Of

Time.

Everything

Seems

To feel

Like

A

Matter

Of

Time,

But what does

Time

Matter

If we don’t

Put it into

Perspective?

Is time a type

Of

Matter

Or a 

Mat

That we sweep

Things

Under?

With every

Day

That passes,

A

Week

Draws

To

A

Close

And a new

One

Comes

Nearer.

What we never

See

Is how easily

Time

Becomes

Clearer.

When you put your

Life

Into weeks,

The numbers

Add

Up,

But when you take

Each breath

And try

To recall

The number,

It becomes

Breathlessly

Overwhelming.

We quantify

The measurement

Of our

Being

And

Existence

As if we created

Time

Itself.

Time is but

A

Construct

That constructs

Our relative

Existence.

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