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Her Eyes are like Clockwork

Her eyes are like
Clockwork.

And as they tell time,
You can feel its art dance
Through her chest.

Her heart is
Connected to mine.
Whatever she does,
I can feel it run a
Mile
A
Minute.

You hear the
Anxiety
Run
Through her like
She’s running
Out of
Time.

And she hears the
Continuous
Beating in my chest
As I hear
Her’s.

When I listen
To her
Thoughts,
They race as if
She were late.

She has to catch
A car,
A bus.
Then a train.

Her mind runs
Like gears.
Working,
Knitting,
Flowing together.
Solving problems
Greater
Than mine ever were.

And all I know is that
Her eyes shine bright.

Her thoughts are an organized
Chaos
That focus more at
Night.

Tick.

Tick.

Tick.

I feel her energy grow.

Her eyes whirl
Over the
Hours
Upon
Minutes.

And as I lose
Track of time,
She remains completely
Fixated.

Unwavering.

Unrelenting.

I feel an encircling
Strain.

All these memories
Erasing,

And she begins to fix the
B
E
A
T
I
N
G
In my
Chest.

My eyes turn to clocks.

Tick.
Tick.
Tick.

Tick.

I scream out loud.

She doesn’t
Hear me.

No.

Not today.

For as my childhood
Disappears,
She replaces my
Memories
With
Her’s.

And I sit
Still on the floor,
For all I hear is a
Loud beating,
Followed
By an urgent
Tick,
Tick,
Tick,
Ticking.

A timebomb for
The End
Of my life.

Happily Ever After.

She lends out
Her hand
With a glowing smile.
“Hello,” she purrs.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you.
My name is Love.”

And it was
With a stoic expression
That I stretched out
My hand,
The palm
Cool to the
Touch.
“It’s nice to meet you too,” I croon.
“My name is Father Time.”




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