You have to think about what's happening.
He wants deaths, He wants camping trips.
Think about what's happened to you.
It will create a new space.
It will hurt and you will cry
In a voice that isn't yours.
Limit these thoughts to less than 10 a day.
Like sit-ups they can make you thin.

The tables in the cafe began to fill,
Windows had fogged.
So here you are.
You needed to get away.
You ended up here.
That was the plan:
You don't know anything.

Another second passes and I have to wonder why
time has a rhythm that never seems to die.
The sparrows faintly sing their internal clocks all set
but still it is the echoing tick that drowns them out of it.

Another second passes,
another moment gone.
It's something that you won't get back, a note a your life's song.

Have you done all your desired?
Have you accomplished all you wish?  
For soon your grains of sand will stop, your final mill be dished.
Your breath will be no longer, your eyelids then will fall.  Your loved ones will mourn over you and make that saddening call.

The clock will go on taking as merrily as can be. Seconds will not wait for you, but will they wait for me?