Tick tock run the seconds
And yet I can’t stop writing.
My ink-stained fingers cramps.
Tick tock goes my heart
Thinking of losses, what ifs, and of a small apartment in LA.
Tick tock goes this year.
Painfully long, and yet not enough time.
(I can’t prepare, I can’t do this).
Tick tock.
Time passes.
As always
And letting me wish I had more and scramble to make it advance faster.
Tick.
Tock.
backup blogging platform 