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If you don't learn to write your own story, someone else will write it for you

4 poems·Since May 2016
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Time

May 29, 2016

Time is ticking at the beat of the heart.

bump. bump.

bump. bump.

The hand circulates the face of the watch.

tick-tock.

tick-tock.

but time is elucent to the time travelled here.

It's been decades since we last spoke.

I hear your name--

and I choke.

It's always the same.

Perpetuating pain inside my throat.

I can't seem to swallow your actions,

for you shattered my hope in the most simple caption.

But I crawled on my knees,

because maybe in time... daddy would love me. 

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