Journals

Tic Tic Tic

Tic... Tic... Tic...
You've lit my fire
Like a wick.
It feels like every word
Is a trick.
And you cannot disassemble me
Once I'm lit.
Tic... Tic... Tic...
One minute passes, I try to let go
Two minutes pass, I keep my feelings on hold
But on the third, I'm about to explode.