Clocks & Chaos

I found the tears of your abandoned soul while searching for the life of mine.

And no, dear, some things can’t stop time,

But if I could break all of my pocket watches,

Maybe the boxes that split you would disappear.

Remember when you told me you wished you could disappear?

Damn. I wish you were here.

See, you’re in my heart but I am trapped in your rib cage.

And we are at the age when we start looking for watches to break.

For your sake, I would spend the rest of my years casting clocks to sea,

Risking the possibility that the hands of time

Would take me by the neck and steal my last breath

Because there are worse things than dying.

Like lying to yourself and not crying for help.

Or drowning on land, trying to stand on your own.

You were my home.

But you’re burning yourself down.

And we both know that some sounds are louder at night.

And some burning homes say they’re alright.

So if pyromania is your joy,

then destroy with fire that desire for now.

It’s tiring how when we want to stay, we never say how we feel.

Remember that nothing is real, so don’t steal the moment.

Close your eyes and don’t despise time ill-spent.

And if blades are your addiction, tear instead the description
 of what others think of you. 

Because when you hurt inside, the world feels it too. 

Even if they say stuff, and you believe it’s true,

Focus more on the folks that believe in you.

Your significance outweighs their hate.

They never mention that beauty is blind to weight

because their intention is to test you and get the best of you.

Let your rage fester in the blood of your veins.

The flood of your pain.
But you hold the reins.

So look around and think of all in store.
With the life you have left, there is so much more.

This poem is about: 
My community

Comments

Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741