justwriting after timed writing

Weighing the difference between a pound of regret and a pound of cereal, thinking about missing breakfast for a few weeks but always remembering how long it will be until lunch. The shadows in your peripheral mind flash on and off and on but the more you notice the longer they stay, wasting something that can never be destroyed I think or created and making our footprints grow or something that's been on the news lately, a debate that doesn't exist shielding an invisible wall holding a clearly visible future with a science-fiction twist, with the ice coming in the wrong door and outstaying its visit, floating on your back for years before you realize you're getting nowhere, and by that I mean staying somewhere, staying in the same place because nowhere isn't a separate entity or a bowl that represents womanhood or being connected to something that isn't completely connected to you, pulling gold strands out of a tapestry and imagining the people around you are doing the same while really they're home, quilts over their heads because the forts are too small when your legs meet with time and expand lengthwise and width wise and teach you it'll be easier now because you can go farther with fewer steps but they don't mention how much tighter the tight spaces will be or how long it will take to get back to where you started if you ever want to shrink again.