Sealed in with a broken clock.
Ticking it starts. Again. No escape.
Gel water slicks off the clock -
unto the floor. I breath. Can now
feel my eyes staring back at me.
My eyes see what my mind knows.
Slowing the clock peels me away
from me. Detached I see what
before I could only wonder
about.
Slipped in my own misery.
Now I am crashing down
unto the clock. The ticking
faster than the conversion
from love to hate.
Reeled into the clock I
spin. No longer me.
Part of the ticking-it's
deafening. My ears hear
what I couldn't sense before.
I grab ahold of an arm.
Circled around the clock.
The peeled pieces fall
back into the place.
No longer a broken
puzzle. No piece missing.
Except the piece 24
hours away from the old
me.
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