Not of your design

i don't think like you
so why should i write like you
my thoughts
my world

time

(05/12/2003; 05:41pm) - time

some days are like the egg timer of doom
seconds tickings away to confront a moment you don't want realized

you stand in the bottom half of an hour glass.
desperately.
hopelessly.
trying to push the sand back into the top half.
pleading to anything that will listen for those precious minutes back.
because. you scream. you yell. you're not ready yet. you're just not ready

and a tear almost falls, you almost give up at the sound of the universe's reply
of
tick. tick. tick.

i have an exam soon