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Mar 2015
stop all the clocks
i am sick of hearing every tick-tock, chime or screech of a rooster.
stop all the clocks
a piercing scream and a shot in the dark
dead bodies found
no need to remind me of how fragile life is
I spend most of my time craving death
it's a lot like craving your lips but not having them
52 weeks in a year
every time you celebrate your birthday is one more year gone
abyss, swallowing up your existence
evanescent, just like him
every minute passing is a minute inching closer to death
some say death is ascending to heaven but how would you know heaven is paradise?
how would you know that god isn't the devil divided and heaven isn't really a sugar coated hell?
time is but a shadow, shrouding us, controlling us
stop all the clocks, I implore you
birthday prose
addy r
Written by
addy r  SC
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