I asked him to stay-
but his hands were wrapped around my throat.
I insisted anyway.
No words I could think to formulate
other than to convince him to not leave me.
Stay.
The words crumble like weak knees amongst a dying friend.
You realize these things when you're close to the edge.
About to jump.

He didn't need my convincing-
His eyes struck me solid
Half past twelve and his five o clock shadow
was the only shade of midnight I care to remember.
You took the time to hold my hands and now they're just spinning.

Clockwise mindset.
A reminder I am set in my ways.
The alarm clock sings-
Tells me there are still things I have to remind myself to remember.
But what good is memory when it is a shell casing of a bullet
that was supposed to be lodged inside of your brain but it missed.
Left you with a hole
and now you can't remember where you came from.

I am moving on from this.
From the hands of yours stuck around my throat
keeping me from keeping him close.
You are nothing to me now-
Just a shadow not even a ghost
Not even a figure I can make out inside of my mind anymore.
You are nothing-

I realize my time is up when the clock strikes.
Father Time says to me
That not everything is set in stone
And these hands will continuing turning
even on days the watch is broken.
So watch out for yourself.

These minutes should remind me
to forget your face in the background.
Ignore the ticking when it comes
and tries to remind me why I take these pills.
Just take them.
Do not bury your hurt inside a foreign memory
that doesn't know how to speak the language of recovery.
Because these hands,
They will continuing turning
even when my watch is broken
Even on days when I am too.