It sounds like a constant flow. Time. It goes on. One tick after another. Time passes.
What if I'm not waiting for time to pass?
What if I'm waiting for it to run out?
Unwillingly seeing it run out.
What happens when it finally runs out?
Sometimes. It feels like I'm handcuffed.
I can't run. I can't hide.
I'm waiting for it to stop.
And explode.
I'm just waiting...
Waiting till the ticks run out.
What comes next?
Explosions.
Loud. Painful. Wounding.
Unstoppable.
Calm after?
If only...
Turn away?
Never meeting the eyes again.
I miss it..
Those times.
It's gone now, isn't it?
Long gone.
Slipped right through my fingers.
I can only pray..
That's all I could ever do..
Ever.