Dysfunctional

The clock on your wall is broken

You say its hands move too quickly for its time to be true

That three hours can't have possibly gone by,

not when your world is still blue

One month passes and

the hands still lie to you

You swear you've only been like this for half an hour,

yet they tell you you've been for two

Oh love,

you've become so obsessed with the way the clock ticks

that you don't realize the broken one here

is you