The clock

I don’t want the world to see me.
The people won’t understand.

Everything is breaking.
And I don’t know how I am.

I don’t think people know how much I am hurt.
Why do I need to sit in the dirt?

I break when I hear the sound of my parent crying.
It sounds like they also are dying.

There is nothing I can do.
Then that bitch stabbed a knife in my back to!

She doesn’t even know about all this.
She is living on a fucking rainbow.
When I am here, underwater, screaming my lungs out.

I feel like I can’t wright anymore.
It’s not good enough.
I am not good enough.

I am sick of the voices in my head!
I am sick of being stuck!
Sometimes I feel better off dead.
But maybe I have luck.

I can’t leave you.
Because I know I will make it worse.
They can’t lose a loved one, and a daughter.



It’s like time stands still again.
When does the clock start?
Please make the clock tick.