Tick
Tick
Tick
The sound that haunts my dreams.
A boring class, the laughter of your friends.
A single tick but so many meanings, so many memories, and more than a thousand more.
But so many have passed. And so many more will.
Dreams and fears and moments.
How can I fit it all in?
A thousand more ticks but what about that wasted one? How many more until my body is the wasted one?
A thousand ticks a day, and not all of them cherished.
What if that’s my last one? During which tick will I perish?
The passing of time and the downfall of man. The passing of time and the progress since beginning.
Tick, I’m on the train.
Tick, I’m in pain.
Tick, the laughter of friends.
Tick, the wounds you mend.
Tick, the moments I’ll cherish.
Tick, the moments we relish.
Tick
Tick
Tick.
Where’d all my time go?
Did I savour it, waste it, throw away it?
And how will I spend it? Can I apprehend it?
Oh honey how will I save it? And when will mine be ended?
I’m terrified. Electrified.
I’ve identified and rectified but still it will never be enough!
It’s t
oo
m
uc
h
.
Tick.
Tick.
Tick.
It’s dark and I’m alone. The ticks whisper a scream. I pull and pull and pull my ears, they’re still there. The ticks are still here, I’m still here, why am I HERE?
will I always be here?
Time passes, I do not. I pass and time doesn’t. It’s still and it’s moving. It’s rapid and delaying.
Why did I get it? Why did he not?
Tick.
I wish I and time would rot.














