The Clock Always Ticks. There Are Times

There Was A Pause. I Was Still Scared By Every Gap In Our Conversation, Fearing That This Was It, The Point Where We Had Nothing Left To Say. I Was Still Trying To Impress You, And I Still Wanted To Be Impressed By You, So I Could Pass Along Pieces Of Your Impressiveness To My Friends, Convincing Myself This Was Possible.

The World Is Quieter Now. It Is Never Quiet, But It Can Get Quieter. What Strange Creatures We Are, To Find Silence Peaceful, When Permanent Silence Is The Thing We Most Dread. Nighttime Is Not That. Nighttime Still Rustles, Still Creaks And Whispers And Trembles In Its Throat. It Is Not Darkness We Fear, But Our Own Helplessness Within It. How Merciful To Have Been Granted The Other Senses.

My Face Seems Too Square And My Eyes Too Big, Like I'm Perpetually Surprised, But There's Nothing Wrong With Me That I Can Fix.

Its Almost Scary How Amateur I Am When It Comes To Musicals - Im A Musical Goer, But I Am Not As Obsessed With Musicals As Perhaps Some Of My Theatrical Friends Are.

Maybe Relationships Could Have Fractals, Too. And Maybe The Sense Of Loss Was When You're Becoming A Fractal Of What You Once Were To Each Other.