journal · poetry

Clockwork

(Tick, tock, tick.)
Oh, I need a tough love
a rough –
shove –
to set me straight.
This pernicious
desire
has left me
stricken
in its wake.
And I simply cannot
take
another creeping
minute,
wrapped up and trapped
within it,
unwillingly
reminiscing you –
missing you –
wishing I was
kissing you –
hoping that you
miss me too,
but fearing it’s not
true.
It’s time to parse
this lovers farce
down to its naked
bones
(keep going,
ignore the
metronome
that marks your lack of
presence.)
See I’ve been living
in the shadow
of your absence
for too
long.
Ignoring all the
whispers
to keep moving and
belong
to someone new.
Yet it’s quite likely I’ll
continue
to prolong it –
(the time is
interrupting
once again;
pretend
it didn’t.)
As I am
breaking up
the breakdown
of our love’s delicate
compound,
extracting all the
finer points
and scribbling them
down
in an attempt to find the
meaning,
in one last
wish
to keep
believing,
that’s when my
eyes, they
realize
I’ve done this all
before.
I’ve delved down to our very
core
time and –
(time, again?!)
and always find the same
conclusion:
lie it low.
Forget the
woe.
Move on to life’s swift
flow.
But no,
oh no,
just no!
I simply cannot
let you go.
I honestly should
though
time’s yet to let me.
(Tick tick tick.)

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