It's the continuous silent yet pressing "tick-tock" In my head heard though I own no clock It's opening eyes every morning to familiar pain And constant weight of loneliness driving me insane
The clock struck a peculiar time Reverberating on the window pains When I looked up from the old wooden desk To the stark white face of that piece My eyes were caught in a haze The hands of the clock eluded me The chair scratched against the floor As I moved backwards and rubbed my eyes My ears popped ever so slightly Light headedness came on to me I found it and remained conscious Aware of what would occur should I fall, Succumbing to that mechanism I mustered myself to remove the clock Lifting it from a single nail in the wall I placed in in the top drawer of the desk It's ticking was no longer audible Yet I still felt the reverberation It bounced and rattled within my bones A pulsing echo within my mind Never louder yet with each throb It grew more and more distinct
Then it stopped altogether And the shadows grew long in the room I paned out the old attic space For the breifest moment Before the shadows evaporated Blending and mixing with the darkness
every drop i bleed is another chance of life gone every passing month a sober reminder of a clock that won't stop ticking tick. tick. tick. desperate hands on a hollow womb every drop i bleed makes it harder for me to meet you
