The World Wouldn’t Stop Turning

I didn’t move,

but the world wouldn’t stop turning.

Time kept its pace

while I stood still inside myself,

watching everything pass

like I wasn’t part of it anymore.

The sky seemed blue

or maybe that was just my emotion

projecting something softer

onto a day that didn’t earn it.

Funny how feelings can repaint reality

and call it truth.

I tried so hard to be cool about it,

to play it off like nothing touched me,

nursing a half-empty bottle

or is it half full?

I could never decide

if I was losing something

or still clinging to it.

I drank for the pause,

for the quiet between thoughts,

for the moment where I didn’t have to name

what was breaking underneath my calm.

The world kept spinning.

The sky kept pretending.

And I sat there measuring my life

in sips and seconds,

wondering when stillness

started feeling heavier

than motion ever did.