Pulse

Paralyzed in memories
From days that are not today,
I try to gather the will to live
Through the day.

Walls are the same.
Lines have etched the brush of time
On faces that have known only my love.

So many plants have grown and perished
I see multiple growing outside my window.
A moment of pause as time is measured
Not through my days, but through leaves and flowers.

With familiar hands and luck,
We live our entire lives.
The single line of a pulse.
Going up, and down
Up and down.

~insight07

This is a part of a writing challenge, where I write on prompts in alphabetical order.
See you around for Q!

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