Tick tock tick tock

Is their any difference between a tick and a tock?

I mean conceptually of course

Not just the workings of a clock

I guess the ticks are every moment

And the tocks is what will be

All tocks become ticks

But all tick tocks go eventually

Not to worry

I care more though in concepts

Of looking past our man made time

Ticks and tocks don't really matter

If you don't pay them any mind

That's a funny thought though

I like that actually

Paying time our money

Money equals time they say

But to me it's a little funny


Cause what if you don't care for money or time?

What then defines your existence of being alive? 

I mean to me a more sound measure

Is perhaps the pleasure

Of feeling my heart beating

A personal repeating of self made time and space

And once that tickers gone

I'm sure to follow along to our final resting place

Fitting we call our hearts the good old ticker then, hey?

My lungs are therefore the tocks

Like two little personal clocks

Working together differently

But in symbiotic harmony

All beats become breaths and all breaths pass by eventually

To me this seems a more valid sense of time

Like when you think of the sublime setting of the sun

Moments as these seem to slow down

And you're stuck in blissful entraption

Some moments just go so fast

And some feel like the last an eternity

And all the while inside me

My heart and lungs slow and speed accordingly

It's quite beautiful actually

Cause now when I think of us

I can count what you mean to me

115,200 ticks of my heart
30,000 tocks of my breath
Those are my average daily rates at rest

80 ticks of heart a minute
30 tocks of air
But around you I am sure

These numbers rise beyond anything compared


Like when I first met you

I think my ticks were at least at 122

Yes to be fair

My breaths fell short in some way
I guess from all the kissing to be had that day

And when we first made love

I felt like both were above

Anything I have ever felt before

And darling

If I could store my ticks and stocks in a special place for you
Reserve them in a bank for us to save
For special days between us two

I think it's safe to say
I'd gladly let you withdraw and take

All my beats and breaths away

My body is not myself
but an entraption forcing me
to speak and dance like someone.
Though I am always inside this prison
of human manifestation
I do not belong within myself.
every time my eyes close
I swallow
                           take a step
                                                    inhale.
­I fall deeper into the dark edged chasm
blurry and anxious shaking
I am not myself.