"Why do you live like you're out of time?"
She threw her hands  into the air at the question.
The clock ticks and tocks but never reaches
The time they settled on.
She throws her hands up into the air and lets them collapse into
White-knuckled fists
At her sides.

"Why do you live like you're out of time?!"
He clenched his fists at the remark,
He drank his will to live away,
Because why not?
He smoked until his lungs turned black,
And drank until his head would spin,
And then drank until it stopped.

And she lives like there's no time left,
Because she's been left bereft
Of shade, of color, of willingness to keep at it,
Whatever "it" is.
Because for her,
There is no time left.
She's on her ninth life,
No time left to dilly-dally,
She's gotta make this worth it,
She's gotta give this meaning.

And he clenches his fist,
And punches through the wall.
He ignores the dry wall
Stuck in his skin,
As his head continues to spin.
He lives like he's out of time,
There's no time left
Because he can't figure out
If he's meant for this world,
Or another.
But what if there isn't
Another?
And it makes his stomach tie itself in knots,


Because loneliness
And emptiness
Does terrible things
To people who aren't so terrible.