Layover
Sweating out the hours meticulously collected.
Pinpointed and highlighted.
Scratching off events and fifth lines for a better sense of purpose.
Tallying up what's gone done for good.
On the outskirts of familiarity.
Complacency has a terminal light.
And total silence a welcome foreign language.
Outrun them all.
Outrun their marathon.
Outrun them on everyone's time but my own.
Autor(es): Premonitions of War
