Where to begin?
How to tell a well structured story of a,b,c order
when life reigns in chaos?
I wait for moment to strike
for glorious inspiration to dawn in lightened euphoria,
but I fear it will not come.
How sure am I to be of this moment?
When I can feel the clock drain.
It ticks and ticks       i  n  s  i  s  t  e  n  t  l  y,
counting over the hours and draining of sand.
And while I sit here
watching the arrow round the clock,
what of the billboard plastered behind?
In my fixation for alarm's ring
the flash of neon glow is dull to my senses.
I read not the words.
My moment of finding never goes, never comes.
I       w  a  i  t
and time passed by.
And what now?
Should it all be over?
I have watched the tick of clock,
waited for my time to run bare
with little I can show.
What have I amounted to in my search for meaning?
What have I left plastered, unread to that now pealing board?

tick to tick to tock to tock
to reminisce to make it stop
to hide my face to never race
to the far away finish line

tock to tock to tick to tick
to make amends to make a fix
to hold a grudge to never budge
to let others take advantage

tick to tock to tick to tock
to have some fun to let things rock
to youthful glows to always grow
to always favor me

Imprinted on my mind
To think of you a thousand times
Before the minute was over

Hollow as the sounds echo
Nothing to hang onto , I must let go
New hour has begun

But silence fell over the voiceless voice
That feeling of thinking I had a choice.
The dark day has arrived .

Million words , a million ways, to say
I love you, and not a letter missing out of eight.
It's been a week

Eternity line snapped, hopeless string.
And I believed in every Viber of my being.
How many months has it been.

Rewind and please stop , I'm dieing
In your world , I'm not even trying
But my minutes are years .

However long this eternity takes it to be
I'll always wish someday you'll know me
Even after 6 years of "nothing"...

On a bad day, time
seems to slow.

On a good day, time
      decides to fly.

      What if we could trick
   time by finding enjoyment
in the bad days.

Maybe then we
   could live our lives
      just a little bit longer.

tick,
tock,
the drippling droplets,
escape like clockworks,

to fly,
and fall upon my mind

As midnight strikes, I wage wars
with invisible enemies
that will never breach
your side of the snow globe.
And you'll wake like my nightmares
are your dream catchers.
You'll wake and catch sunlight,
dew drops and morning air.
You are in the bubble of where
good things still happen.
You are where
I am not.

And sometimes I still wonder
how you get the better
end of the bargain,
while I only get nostalgia,
unhealthy coping mechanisms
and nuclear explosion
barren spaces in my heart.

I can't see past old horizons
and what's stuck ticking restlessly
on blank canvas walls
has always been a marker
dividing my present
from yours.

Two second-hands living in the same Big Ben
counter and clockwise beat together in a similar rhythm on opposing schedules of the day
she breaks her fast at around 8am, syncing with his injestion of supper and she collapses at midnight just as he reboots for the night shift
though they spend most of the ticks and tocks in varying angles
It was agreed upon that they meet on the sixth –
Definitely on the sixth of the week
to reconcile and kindle… caressing those can’t-be-helped blank spaces where fragments should have been

Ominous silence!
All clocks chime in unison,
Silence recoils quick