Time Kills Everything

Blanks are fired from the mind's machine gun.
The gun is empty.
The holes in the bottom of the Uzi
kind of look like my brain,
though I've seen as much of it
as I have of God.
Both are thought-based representations.
My mind feels like a tree so decayed,
one can see through me.
Perhaps it's like that tree in South Africa.
There's a bar inside. Really. I read about it.
I've never been there.
Perhaps my head's like memories of Chuck E. Cheese.
Holes I could walk through and get lost in.
Everything seems so big when you're six.
I remember quarreling with a friend
over He-Man figures.
We vowed to never speak again.
Later that afternoon,
our excursion to Chuck E. Cheese came.
My first valuable lesson in life came at age six
and took 20 years to accept.
Good and bad.
Wellness and sickness.
Happiness and anger.
Time kills everything.