Funny thing about later... It never shows up calling itself later. It always introduces itself... as now. I keep putting happiness on layaway, making payments with my days. Telling everybody, "When I get there..." like "there" is an actual place. I gave Monday to a Friday, gave my twenties to a plan. Kept rehearsing for a life that had already begun. Had my hands around tomorrow while today sat in the room. I was busy planting flowers I might never watch them bloom. Maybe that's the trick of time— it doesn't steal a thing. We hand it over willingly for what we think it's gonna bring. How much today does tomorrow cost? How many "not nows" before right now gets lost? If I win everything I said I had to win, but can't remember who I was before the race began... Did I make a life?