It was chaos. A shift of color, of mode, of speed.
It’s too much, too soon, I cannot stay, I’ll bleed.
Seconds camouflaged as months
became months camouflaged as seconds.
It was calm. The shift of color, of mode, of speed.
It’s too much, too soon, I cannot leave, I’ll bleed.
Immersed in the storm, chaos became the norm,
a learned welcome swarm, that stripped away a uniform.
Just four months stood on this balcony,
and I learned to be,
its lights never to rest,
forever to guide me.