I feel my life draining,
Slowly from my fingertips…
My hair,
Tumbling from the top
Of my
Withering scalp.
My veins,
Surfacing on my pale skin,
Bulging, pulsing,
Of the verge of bursting
To their own extinction.
And I am sitting here,
Watching the clock
With these tied and
Filthy, aching eyes.
I can’t slow my life down..
I have no time key.