Ticking Clocks

Time ticks on.
The hands keep twisting
And the seconds keep turning.
When will be my time?

When will be my time.
Thats the question.
But, my dear, your time is here
For your time has been ticking
And it’s ticking away.

Time ticks on.
The hands have always been twisting
And the seconds have always been turning.
Tango to the ticking of your time.



I though

Maybe if I run away.

Maybe if I sprint fast and far enough

They won’t catch me.

I thought

Maybe if I hide.

Maybe if I feel the haze of the drugs enough

They will dance with me.

But eventually

I started getting tired of running away,

They caught up with me.

The drugs started wearing off,

They stopped dancing with me.

So now

I’ll stop running.

I’ll stop hiding.

I’ll sit here and play with my demons.