"And the blue haze, wiped my gaze

And spoke to me- as I sought
anarchy.

-

I knew that what it said, would just be numbers in my head

And what really shook, is the authoritative hold it took.

And commanded me my head to lay

On straw and satin silk...

-

Tea: garden aroma: to me, I did not stir.

At this moment I found restraint in dreary eyes.

-

A couple more spokesmen- look!

Shadow figures multitude of twelve.

The hours of the clock direct heaven light-

And birth of dying hell.

...shadowy figures-

(Balance scythes on two hands scale.)

-

The dark ones command me, and speak in ill-

(My frame is weak- and inevitably yields)

To dusk harvest hooks, that bind me to my bed.

(And in my room, I rest- commanded- as dead.)

-

A blue haze spoke,

And washed my fears away,

The light forms- a script.

Authoritative motions- by skeletal death- grips.

Open hands-

Black cloaks-

Cut just above the wrists."

Cleaved of life
flesh pealed, unused.

Now sitting hollow,
a moment is always passing.

Entombed in hourly reminders
that its time is fleeting .

I’m a victim as you stream my life
Like a short film and I can’t remember my own name
You drape my skin over rusty bones that fail when the clock chimes
Yet you collect every strand of my hair
Torn and grown
Cut and combed
and repaint the shapes I used to be into finer lines
Why do you whisper silly words to me?
Yet I hang myself on them and engrave the fate you sealed for me
Why do you twist me at every angle?relishing in my deterioration
Soaking and rinsing your own wounds in the pools of my bitter mistakes and sweet memories
But these scars I wrap with your worn stems, vanish beneath my exterior
I am stainless
Sometimes,
when I am to tattered to walk, you carry me on your shoulder
But I remember when you grabbed my ankles and cracked my wrists
You cast me like a stone
And polish me like a trophy
*Conceal me in your clock work

I see it in every wrinkle
In every wilting flower
In every cracked stone
Every second of the hour

Something that isn't there, but was
To which all things are bound
Something anyone can lose
But only few have found

The universal measure
A tick that doesn't bite
Nothing can dodge its warm embrace
Not even day and night

Always there and never not
Though it holds no shape or form
I sit and watch the clouds gather
The calm before the storm