The clock stops
I clamber inside to fix it
A cog in the machine is broken
A long rope,
Becomes short as I tug on it
I can’t reach the broken cog
The severed piece of rope falls onto the floor
A hand,
Tightened around a knife
What cut the rope?
Is someone else here?
But it’s me.
I can’t reach the cog
The rope was cut before I could
The hand won’t let go
And now the knife is pressed against my chest
Deeper
Deeper
Deeper
Against my lungs
My breathe ever faster
Who else is here?
Why are they doing this?
But it’s me.
The knife is taken from my lungs
Only a small scar shows what happened
I hear the clock start ticking,
But the cog is still broken
And I can’t reach it
I’m dragged outside
The clock isn’t moving,
But I still hear that dreadful ticking
I hear the people around me
My ears deceive me
No one’s here
It’s just me.
The hand still bears the knife
But in the other,
The frayed rope is held
It’s put around my neck
My lungs can’t catch any air
I hear laughing from those around me
Who’s doing this?
Why won’t anyone help me?
But it’s just me.