Marking Off

Who to love, in-the-coming-sun? 

Everyday feels the same, 

As everyone fills their wants. 

A checklist slow 

Waiting for days 

X'ing off roles 

In the coming days haste. 

Reality clambering, 

Tense hands: the hammering. 

Palpitations of the heart,

From our breaths: the limiting. 

Existential flow. 

An internal-woe. 

Dreaming for links, 

As the weakest one that's broken... 

No one · will be · You.