clock

stalking this kitchen like a caged tiger,
wandering in circle, tightening and releasing my fingers,
the tic in my hands that betrays my anger.
kicking all the cabinets, glaring back at the sun,
and i replay the words given by everyone,
and i know it’s wrong but i just can’t give it up,
the shame, the anger, the tragedy of my luck.

i know what it takes to bring my head back down the earth,
i don’t need advice, or a program, or a therapy chair
i need a wall to punch, a listening ear, a reality scare
except i already have all that, still greedy for more.

that’s the problem, isn’t it? this greed in me
it’s a joke that i have a tattoo with the word "fidelity"
i’m not loyal to shit unless it’s a memory.

i feel like a beverage that’s all shook up,
can’t keep the lid on, peace doesn’t work
something i should cultivate but i just don’t give a fuck.
what’s that you say? there’s hope, i should believe in me
how can i do that when i feel like everyone is leaving me?

frustration building, can’t trust a feeling
because it’s the ease of your departure that has me still reeling
but what should i expect after the crime is done,
the blood wiped up, the casings scraped away?
truth is i never deserved a love like yours anyway.

i’m afraid to scream for fear i’d never stop,
nothing can ever fix this broken clock.

peace.