Tick, tick, tick
Goes my clock, a relentless reminder
Of all that has passed
And all that is to come
It is always present, yet sometimes not
Both an unwelcome intrusion of urgency
When all that I yearn for is the silence
The stillness of a momen– tick, tick
Yet having a quiet beating drum
As the score of your life
Is somehow comforting,
As though the knowledge that another tick will soon follow
Dampens the sorrow of past ticks
It is not so much the ticking that irks me
But rather the constant realization
That it inevitably accompanies
The truth that my clock may not be ticking
As quite the same rate of those around me
That the eternities of other’s sorrows
Pass through me in mere seconds
With complexities and intricacies tossed aside
In the constant pursuit of the next
Tick, tick, tick
The truth that the hands of my clock
Will one day no longer chase each other in circles
After a lifetime of never quite catching up, tick, tick
There are not enough ticks in this world
For my heart to delve into the
Cracks and crevices of this life
To unpack and unravel the convoluted, tangled tales of our past
And to search for answers to questions that have not yet been asked
There are not enough ticks
There never will be
Yet as I find myself wandering through the hallways of my mind
Molding thoughts into verse
My clock has steadily ticked away
A reminder of my limits
Both a friend and an unwelcome update
A constant clarification of what still remains uncovered
Forever cloaked by the limited ticks
And my innate ability to forget how scarce they are
Time is money, or so they say
Ticks are my only currency
My only bargaining chips
I shouldn’t use them to fund the
Ventures that don’t dive into the depths of
Our reality, intricate and irreplaceable
My ticks are both my past, present, and future
They are both who I am and who I never will be
So please, spend yours wisely
Or they may evaporate faster than you can blin– tick, tick
Tick, tick, tick