At the Onset of 2 AM

What do I do when I’m not with you?

Sitting in the empty space of time and history,
The cracks in between the cogwheels creaking  with loneliness,
Moaning gears of the clocks enough to tear a soul apart,
With crooked fingers extending from fragmented hands,
Aligning with the right numbers at the wrong time,
Wrong day, cocking its head at the blank slate eyes,
Embedded in my silent head, its tick tock fills the gaps
Between one consciousness and the next,
Anxious heartbeats tick tock with the rest, an infallible rhythm

Palms open, narrow fingertips reaching for the next number
On the scale that measures my existence in quantities,
My moods in the insignificant tick marks between the finite infinities
Waking my dead mind from its shallow slumber–

Reluctantly conscious until it remembers it died to live,
Enslaved itself to time in return for a minute of freedom to roam,
As minute as it may have been, it was enough to not think of “home”,
Cradled in between your immobile hands, peace was all you could give,

And it was all I could ask for,
But it wasn’t enough after all, wasn’t permanent–
Such temporaries played with my sanity, distorted my sentiments,
Your hands moved away, couldn’t give more,
And I fell apart slowly, rusting and failing with time,
It wasn’t your fault, nothing you could do,
It’s just that

Time gets to me when I’m not with you.


One thought on “At the Onset of 2 AM

  1. Ranting Crow

    to much, to little
    it is never enough
    ticking tocks
    the beat goes on
    with every passing
    moment of memories
    made or remembered
    it is always
    to much, to little
    of untouchable
    tocking ticks
    I want to spend with you!.

    I so loved your writing as every moment it felt so double… wanting, leaving, having, losing moving when you stopped.

    Liked by 1 person


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