Tick
The clock is ticking away my seconds,,
Turning them to minutes,
Warping them to hours,
Taking my time,
Taking my life.
Slow and rhythmic,
Like the pain that flows through my veins,
Never thinking of what my life can become,
Only thinking of what it became.
Is this the same?
This desolate land of thought,
Taking the happyness that you cannot buy,
And turning it into something that I bought.
I rought these bars that I am caged within,
Weather it was with my sin,
Or my love,
I do not know.
But this isn't the same.
This is something that I cannot name,
Beyond the numbness,
Beyond the pain,
Deeper into something more.
The clock ticks away the pain,
It ticks away the lies,
And though it trys it can never truly tick me away,
Some part of me is here to stay.
Charlotte Brown
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