Tag Archives: clock

black mold

the clock strikes five, and then there was one.

bathroom floor. feels cold. unnaturally perfect. comforting. alone.

fingers pointing to every tile—faded pink against mouldy lavender

grimly counting the grimy walls peddling for some peace of mind

mindless indulgence, please don’t run out, pleaseplease…but it does

148 tiles. not mine. five sleeping bodies outside, blissfully unaware

five dreams i struggle not to rudely wake up with my silent screams

one. one face. hounding the very verge of my panicked wiles

melting me into an incomprehensible mess. maddening, blaming

the perpetrator of the crime. blue. perfect blue. haunting blue

angel blue with cumulous hair, have you ever seen golden clouds

before? sweet and dimpled, stifle back a sour laugh, i’m falling before

i realise that i can’t fly, oh shit oh god, i can’t fucking fly—!

pulled back. 148 tiles. small cube. no sky. hell below. my shivering hands

prayer. tired kind of mantra, no don’t want this anymore, please i

just want to be okay, please i just want it all to stop stop stop stoppp

numb but hurt, reduced to fine shreds on 28 of the 148 dirty tiles

five unconscious bodies, enviously euphorically ignorant, another storm

but not from outside, it’s too chilly for that, my eyes blur as they fog over but

better than sorry little pissbaby tears trickling, i have to face this now anyway

there’s no proper decorum for dismantled fools like me. only life. only life.

light flickers shut. 148 tiles hide beneath the shadows. five bodies toss fitfully. one.

the clock strikes six, and then there were none.

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The Marionette’s March

The fear sets in, of knowing how short our time is
The shortness of stride, not a single excuse to prove
That we were meant for this
Everything starts to spin all at once
If you hear something strange in my voice, its conviction
Detest my words, they have no ill meaning…

~*~

Don’t look back on the patience you lost

The blood that’s been wasted, the casualties cost

A strange voice that hides the bad intentions

Though not yours to atone, suffer in perdition

.

Back and forth, the confused marionette swings

Keys of haunted reveries a rusty music box sings

Conviction relinquished to the uproarious applause

What’s yours will be mine, and sever all the loss

.

And I believe that your hands clap for a reason

Just as why thieves walk free and lambs go to prison

If death was a game, then the dice has been cast

Only those caught in the thorns of the throne shall last

.

We move on, we move on, what’s a clock without the ticks?

To warn of oncoming reparations, sounds rather cryptic

Follow the trail of sunshine as it stammers and falters feeble

Heads and tails decision, let the coin land in the middle

.

And if the theatre lights shut down in this city’s comatose

Bow deep and lay upon your mausoleum a dusty merlot rose

Thus holding only the patience that was once yours to have

Now forsaken and lost like a demon in an ocean of gods.

~*~

Oh dear puppet, wake up
And cut the strings before the next show
I believe that this is in your blood
By all means take your place, take your place
Put yourself into this letter, we’ve all had it alright
We dropped the ball.

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parched for time

the hours

are slowing

insufferably

clocks melt

and shiver

quite palpably

the minutes

chew seconds

and spit them out

i’m still waiting

and failing; patience

dries my mouth.

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Concrete & Clocks

Time is ticking like pewter rocks

Another stony glare for the clock

Paralyse, stupor, lethargic, stuck

The yawn escapes, I’m outta luck

Time is ticking, wasting the clock

Ideas hit me but they fail to knock

Ennui colliding like massive trucks

I’m falling out and dead like a fuck.

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Clockwork Seizure

“I can feel my nerves clicking like…roller coaster cogs, pulling up to the inevitable long plunge.” ~Will Graham

~*~

Something is wrong inside of you.

Very wrong.

You’ve never noticed it before.

But your minute engines seem to be s-t-u-t-t-e-r-i-n-g along

The gears /stop/ grinding altogether

The parts fall off like a rotten tooth.

And your mind suddenly snaps;

Into a m i l l i o n f e t t e r e d p i e c e s

Snap, crackle, pop.

Shatters silently, leaves no traces

The room around you, you find

Seems to get closer, closer

Pressing against your thoughts

Against your claustrophobic mind

And you can hear the walls

Screaming

Crying

Beckoning you with ~calls~

Pounding

P o u n d i n g  h a r d e r

Gales growing stronger

Fire tornadoes, heart burner

Manipulation and deceit

The universe ever so conceit

The working, ticking clock in the room

Further mocks your whim

Tick. Tick. Tock.

Mad laughter is besmirched in the very air

The metallic smell. The barging pounds.

Getting harder. Faster. Closer.

Until it rips into the walls of your brain.

The awful headache is highly unbearable

Aspirins refuse to dissolve the pain.

Is there anything to do but give in?

The provenance never mattered anymore

The cause is lost and gone too far

All that remains are clockwork metal

Tapping slowly on the concrete ground

Screws, bolts, nuts, cogs rolling away

And the numbers and hands seem to slowly decay

And all smudge together and float around

Before rusting and fading away behind

Along with your wispy broken mind.

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