Every week we look forward to the weekend
Every year we look forward to Christmas
Can't I extract myself from this rhythm?
I know Saturdays can be bad.
Christmas isn't as exciting on Christmas.
Don't make me such a stranger,
Didn't we lock eyes during rush hour?
Make our silent alliance in the hum of the race?
Trust me in my acceleration.
I'll always be looking back, or at least around
It's only water for everyone else.
I unwrap eternally,
peeling back the pattern,
aware that it's already over.
I live impatiently, to see what's inside
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