I have deluded self delusions when the tick goes tock at 4'oclock,
Demons scream from the pinkish grey spongy filled with tar cells of my lungs,
The woods I wander in wondering why there I cannot breathe and you do not heed,
The warnings I whisper through your phone in a melodramatic uncondescending tone,
Met with Mrs. Plath in a black cabin to pour blood from poetic scars whilst drinking from whiskey bottles of poisonous stardust derived from a sandy beach named lost and found insecurities,
At ease my disregarded beauty ever so defined by fiction,
**** its now half past 4'oclock and all I wish to do is pollute the air with dusty ill impaired screams,
I want to scream,
I want to scream,
My blankets envelop me drowning out my ink tears as they drip drip drop stop,
Stop looking at me that way,
Stop talking to me that way,
Oh god don't hate me for my coagulated words!
Trapping myself in-between a sandwich of a multitude of feelings ghastly emotions,
Smiling depression shaking hands with bitter caramel anxiety,
Pirouetting on a trampoline of repetition,
**** it is now 5'oclock I must shut my eyes and dream of when another tick goes tock at 4'oclock.
An anonymous girl ©

Of all his Majesty's chilling indifference,
The remarkable unrelenting poise of power and purpose,
Of the uncondescending unerring count of ticking time,
This universal Clock has given life its chime.

One after another of yet another they have bowed,
Humble to the greatly able master they've sighed,
Reclining in their inners in conquered concession,
While the Count in keeping count has clocked each's session,
And given each man their due.


But with it, what did, do, will they do?

Life spent as lent
Twirls of uncondescending senseless ideas my mouth spew
Saying words I didn’t meant
Sadness of all leafs autumn threw

Where did it all go, all the magic´s gone?
All is seen unclearly beneath the pelagic under the sun
Reminders from yesterday make me reminisce de past
Concluding with hopes that this won´t last.