Life is clockwork.
Every tick, every shift in the gears is a new moment
To live, to breathe, to do something useful.
All these precious little moments,
All these seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, months -
And, yet, I spent them on you.
Even the broken clock that you set me on was right twice a day.
You gave me what I wanted, what I still pine for.
But suffering through your hell made me wary of your heaven.
You had too many thorns for such a small flower.
You ran out of time, darling.
Now you're headed counterclockwise as I go in the opposite direction.
There are only so many numbers on a clock,
Only so many hours in a day to be happy.
I'm going to take those hours for myself.
Goodbye, my love, my torturer, my idol.
Thank you for the memories.
They're all just memories now, and I have to make more without you.
Time will never stop going forward.
Neither will I.
YOU ARE READING
Aphrodite
Poézia"There's a blaze of light in every word, it doesn't matter which you heard: the holy or the broken, 'Hallelujah.'"- Leonard Cohen The poems in this series center on two characters: I, the speaker, and You, the speaker's subject. I is not a specific...
