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Spin.

I want to hide
let the world slide,
stay in your arms forever,

hands in hands completing each other.
If we could just start over,
would it all be beautiful again?

Spin.

I want to say that this is all I want.
I want to say that this is all I need.
I want to have this, and be sure.

I want to cup the world in my hands,
blow life into it,
and watch it fly away.

But I want to fly, too.

If you stare into a clear sky for long enough,
you will see clouds,
and what if you've only created them by watching?

Spin.

World rushing by,
hands trying to catch on,
grasping only air,
echoes of the passing world.

All I want is perfect happiness,
with that,
I would be content.

Spin.

What is life for?

I'd thought
it was about achieving something.
It's a space to fill,
to decorate as we see fit.

It must be something more than the mere passing of time.

Spin.

The peaceful dripping of laundry,
and the silence of a Sunday afternoon,
and alone with my thoughts.

Let me tell you a story.

Once upon a time, there was a girl,
she dreamed of the day
when God would play all of her life before her,
on a tape recording,
so none of these moments would be truly lost.

And like them all,
she drew pictures of princesses
with tiny waists and heavy, elaborate hairstyles,
the sisters' heights carefully incremented 
from ages two to eighteen.

And she grew up immersed in fairy tales,
without reading the classics.

I was obsessed with mermaids as a child.

Spin.

She had a magic talisman,
and she never figured out what it was,
but it brought her luck.

They always bring you luck,
until you try to take it apart,
find out how it works, and why,
so you can start manufacturing it,
endless rows of duplicate copies,
progress marching on.
Patent it and make your fortune.

She believed that without it,
she would never have succeeded,
not realizing that it wasn't the talisman that kept her safe,
it was the people,
who made the world part before her,
before she had a chance to see them move.

When she lost it, she bought another,
and noticed no change,
so she assumed it was still working.

Spin. 

Years pass,
she leads a charmed life, and knows it,
but doesn't realize it's only as charmed as she's made it,
doesn't realize that everyone else's life is just as charmed,
if they saw it.

Spin.

Doesn't know why she keeps seeing people floundering,
not-quite-drowning,
lost in their own thoughts.

Spin.

Watching the minutes tick on the clock,
daylight stealing time.
Lightbulbs in the darkness pretending nothing has changed.

Spin.

Nothing has changed.
There was a time when life was like this before,
and life will be like this again,
however life is.

Spin.

Words flowing without meaning.

Hair flowing without order,
draw my arms in and the world spins, 
until it all falls away into chaos.

Words flowing in the easy path,
the taken-before path,
without breaking new ground,

And if I wanted to,
I wouldn't,
but I don't need to.

Spin.

Time passes, life goes on.
Where does it all go?