We argue sometimes 
over stained memories 
and weary lovers,

As I label my days with sharpened pencils
time dusts my past, flips through my parents
Stacks my days in order 
and slant it all.
My pencil snaps, and my days scatter,

Time and I
we fool sometimes 
I run to the Gods
Giggling for it to catch me
It's my turn to escape.
Time urges me to watch as it reverses the seasons 
and quavers the globe until we roam the clouds, 

Time constantly rushes me
pulls my days apart 
kneads my mornings and nights 
never waits for me, 

I plead for it to be calmer 
move steadier 
I’m fatigued
I wish to breathe,  

However I weep, 
my words float in a still second 
that moment
when the clock pauses
between now and then 
later

that millisecond 
it's my sovereignty,

Time and I 
we split in the uncertainties 
in the divide between 
here and nowhere
later

in this millisecond
Time releases its grip on my consciousness 
and for a heartbeat 
I breathe,

Anxious Thoughts

• The Animal with My Face
• Alberta’s Book Ban: A Dystopian Reality
• Decoding “Sinners:” A Vampire Film with Cultural Depth
• John Hates Lemons

1. 

   I completely agree with you! This degree has introduced me to a world of history and culture. Thank you for…

2. 

   I hear your conundrum; I too suffer from a ‘title’ that doesn’t pay the mortgage…Beowulf, Dante’s Inferno, Canterbury Tales are…

3. 

   Welcome

4. 

   Thank you!