SAVE ME // POETRY & PROSE

xxii. the clock never stops and now all that's left is white noise

XXII. THE CLOCK NEVER STOPS AND NOW ALL THAT'S LEFT IS WHITE NOISE

tic toc. can you hear that? that's the sound of life passing you by. the air thickens and you struggle to breathe as you try to chase after it.

tic toc. where are you now? you lost your mind and your body, limbs weak and heart racing. your eyes wander around, searching for home.

tic toc. you're a fatigued mess, why? remember when she used to call you a beautiful mess, beautiful sea of destruction? you'd disagree, the only beautiful thing in this world was her. it's all still too fresh, the wound still hurts and makes you grit your teeth in pain and frustration.

tic toc. why are you still searching for your home? you've forgotten: the only home you had ever known was her. now she was gone, and with her the only place where you felt safe. there's no point in running anymore.

tic toc. why is there a clock inside your head and why is it starting to get faster? hurry boy, she's waiting for you. home is calling.

tic toc. can you see her yet, smiling ever so fondly at you? go on now, home's in front of you, dive in.

—— how does it feel to be back in her warm embrace? such a shame now you can't feel a thing, the sea was deeper than you expected and you drowned. you drowned in yourself ( A ‘BEAUTIFUL’ SEA OF DESTRUCTION ), but oh did it feel good to finally let the chaos get the best of you.

—— somehow you found yourself again.

-- (to) the boy who chases both life and death, and everything in between.