For once again, the clock tolls.

12, midnight, the beginning, the end.

I sit in the remaining confetti, once again alone.

To me, it all has lost its vibrant demeanor

Another Year, Another time where everyone begins again.

It’s as if they shed their skin of the year, they regenerate themselves, then given a new look that feels old.

Yet i am left here in my war torn vessel, with all the scars from the year.

I regenerate last out of everyone, I never understand why.

Maybe, i just don’t want to go, or maybe i am not ready yet.

In some of the years, i think it is a gift, to enjoy who i was for a little while longer.

Yet i am jealous none-the-less

all i ask is that i shake these scars,

the ones that fade in through the regeneration

the ones i regret and the ones that still burn.

This year will be no different,

they sleep, i stay awake

they change, im delayed

but maybe this is they year i live with minimal scars and i regenerate quicker next time.

or maybe ill lay here wide awake again pondering what could have been.

 

it doesnt matter

the new and the old, the beginnings, the ends

shall be turned upside down again in father time’s sands

and it will begin all again.