Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jenna Lucht Jun 2016
It's bright and pounding
My heart is heavy and fast.
I don't know whats happening,
Why does no one else feel this too?
It's three o' clock,
Right on the dot.
Everyday, the wave comes and goes.
Like clock work I can't control it,
I don't know what to call it.
I can barely breathe,
Like I'm drowning.
My head is above water,
But my body is frozen.
I am eight.

My eyes, they're wide
And my breathing shallow.
This happened before,
Everyday since I remember.
I'm sitting in the car
I'm sitting in class
I'm walking with friends.
Either way it doesn't matter
It finds me still.
Inside I am in panic,
Every hair on my body
Stands tall and prickly.
My insides are quaking
Yet outside I'm fine.
My head is screaming,
My mouth a straight line.
I am twelve.

The feeling it comes still,
But now I am stronger.
I am smarter and bigger
And I know how to fight back.
You don't have a name,
But now I have a tactic.
A defense my body built.
Soon enough I forgot
The little girl, sitting panicked
In the backseat of her daddy's car.
My brain was smarter
and kept you at bay.
Yet, a worthy adversary you persist.
I am fifteen.

You come with a new bitterness.
You race all the time,
I boast I am immune.
I didn't defeat you,
I merely learned to cope.
You're still there,
But I forgot.
You're greatest victory to this day,
Making me believe I won.
I am eighteen.

And now I feel you,
Press hard and slow
On my breathless chest.
Where did you come from,
Old friend?
With no one around
You took camp inside.
I no longer had control,
Because you changed the game.
Suddenly you were there,
But new and darker.
A new facet to our evolving relationship.
It wasn't just an idea,
But people that scared me now.
It wasn't just clockwork,
But constant, pounding thoughts.
Thoughts that bombarded my peace
And attacked my every move.
I was immobile,
Isolated from the world.
You had finally won,
Taken me captive.
Congratulations!
I am nineteen.

I had forgotten how you once tormented me.
Isn't it funny the pain we unknowingly carry?
While I was weak,
You grew strong.
While I denied,
You persisted.
And so there we were,
Reunited old friends.
You come unexpectedly now,
I can no longer anticipate your attack.
I am learning your name.
I am twenty.

A girl comes up to me.
She says she feels strange,
Like she doesn't belong.
I ask her what's wrong
Why she feels not the same.
She says she feels left out,
That she isn't having fun.
She feels strange around the other girls,
And gets nervous and scared.
Her eyes wide and her voice timid,
Like she's never thought these words.
Her mind it goes off,
And she thinks others thoughts.
Inside she's a kaleidoscope,
Nuanced and colored.
But outside it is monotone,
And for the first time it makes sense.
She is eight.

She had the same panicked eyes
That I once had alone
in a crowded, full room.
It all made sense
I finally understood.
This is why, she was why
I once felt so panicked and strange.
She was why I never gave it a name,
How I innately knew what to do.
Because I knew how to beat it,
And I could help her defeat it.
He gave me this pain in my chest
Not for me, but for her.
It wasn't for my own gain,
But for her strength.
And finally I knew
why He made me so different.
I saw why my brain
Was wired so tight.
Her brain was like mine
And her thoughts ran with mine.
I am eight.

I am sitting in the backseat of my fathers car.
The sun is shining,
But the light is sharp and cuts my eyes.
It's three o' clock, I know.
My heart is pounding
My mind is racing.
And for the first time it has a name.
I know what you are.
And suddenly, I am not afraid.
JGuberman Sep 2016
Eight

There's no perfect time to find there's
no time left to perfect. Even with a new
watch I have trouble telling what time it
is without you, you who run like clockwork
precise down to the second, though no so
precisely in my second thoughts.
Izzy Broaden Aug 2016
I hate this life so very much. The dope... Just never enough. No matter what I do. No matter where I go. I feel alone. I am unknown. There is no where's for me to roam. This drug is toxic. The chemicals hypnotic. My teeth grinding. Turned to powdered slots. As each moment passes the next, it's all just a big fuckking blur. The time has all past. And the mad hatter has finally crashed. There has never been a better time then this! Where there's nothing here that's even left. Everybody has stopped believin in what was gunna leave them next. The possibilities were never ever even really their!! So left behind. There is no more time.
jennee Jun 2016
seeking, she clenches her fists
digging, into her fragile skin
weary of what comes after
everything else is uncertain
to howling thuds of blackout doors
mouth accompanied by crippled words
she sings to the pendulum
with ticking wrists

(n.j.)
Meg May 2016
i don't want to look there anymore for fear of the clockwork ****** that i make of my own memory every time i pass that house on Sheridan Circle. it is filled with the ghosts of childhoods well spent but long past and i can't help but think how the rope by which the old swing used to hang looks like a noose, which it may as well be. maybe one day i will swing from it for the last time.
More prose.
Beleif Feb 2016
Father, take the body and leave it to drown.
The paths I built are deadly to cross.
This form is raw, these arms are gone,
My face is lost, what can I pray upon?
The windows shut; I cannot go,
Within this self I cannot hold,
Without this form, my panic stilled,
Why trapped with so much sky unfilled?  
Tell this box to let me through.
Make it sing me a song that will lift the bars
And set my ideas free to roam outside this room.
I want to plant a chaos seed.
I wish it to sprout a wonderful tree with clockwork leaves,
To leave in the sphere to watch from my chariot seat.
Part II of Unwinding Steely Strings.
maybe marc Nov 2015
.
hello there chellovecks and forellas
appy polly logies for the chepooka
for i am only a devotchka
begging for a malenky lomtick of jeezny

droogies and nadsats
everyone who owns a pair of ookos
listen up to
your humble narrator

bring me a pletcho platch
and a polyclef
to open up the sun.
a little variation.
Wade Lancaster Sep 2015
I need us to be like clockwork, do you understand?
All its part work together... like clockwork. A loving and lasting relationship is not perfect, like a timepiece, yet working together we come close to perfection.
Patricia Nicole Sep 2015
Could you,
Loosen your grip on my reigns?
Obviously, you
Can't see how you're,
Killing me softly
Where am I now? Where do I sleep?
Over and over it replays on my mind,
Reverbirating sound of whips tearing my skin
K**indly put me down, and just put me out of my misery.
rained-on parade Dec 2014
When I look at you and realize
somewhere in the clockwork of my heart
I still lose a second for you.
Three and counting.
It's on its way to become a very bad habit. But I guess that is what makes me the poet I am.
Next page