fevers, mirrors, scales, and clocks
someone told me that you were coming home for my birthday, so i go out and buy you some daisies. i sit on my porch and wait for you to show up, then i realize i've still got more then a month to wait. so i spend my time watching the clock, and the flowers fade, and wilt, and die. its almost enough to make me cry. the second hand stopped last week. time seems to be moving even slower now. i dont understand how thats possible, so i search my brain and find no answers that can comfort me enough until you come home again. i miss you, and i love you.
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