I sit in this half darkened room listening to the clocks tick and tock. Where would I like to be? Away from here, honestly. Time is but an essence and I'm sorry. It probably felt like this room. Where your darkest thoughts crept silently in the shadows and all you could hear was that clock that ticked words of remark, down to the color of your skin. The words that weren't even mine but they still shut you in. And they shut me out at the worst time of all. But time is an essence, master of all. If never fails to watch me fall. We watch the clock from opposite sides of the door and listen to the quiet that we've both succumbed to. A door I wish I could easily step through. But I'll lay here in wait and sleep now and then, till it decides to open again. Until then, I'll listen and talk to the ghost of the girl who lit the world on fire and wishes she was anywhere but here.
I literally listened to a clock while writing this.