Tick tock

Sitting here as the clock ticks, hearing every tick that goes by.
Filled with emptiness as though something cracked and leaked away
Why is it that we get these feeling from such trivial things

Is it our past that fuels us
Fuels us to feel over dramatised feelings about little events
Or is it that our past needs us to rely on small trivial things to survive

We survive in strange ways
By hiding away from what is the real world
But in fact it’s the real world if its part of us and we breath

If we think it, dream it or fantasise about it
Even though we cant touch it or see it
Does not mean that its not the real world

Because we make these thoughts and we want them
And we breath in the air around us and we are the real world
So every essence of us, isn’t that the real world also?

But I am sitting here in the dark listening to the tick
Wondering what to do
Wondering why time has stopped still

With the pain I’ve endured caught in the tear caught with time on my cheek
The pain may not be necessary
But I chose this path and it saddens me when the foundations I walk crumble

My laughter left with the wind
My tears tapped and turned on
My heart pounding, bruising with each beat against the prison wall
My head on a tornados path, for all destruction
My mouth doing as it pleases

I’m sitting there watching my self as time stops
The tick tick tick tock
And I know what I see I did was wrong and what I will, it will be wrong

But all in all, I am human and this is me