art-time-collective

 

TICK

      The clock pounds a rhythm,

      pulsating your eardrums,

      penetrating your senses

      piercing you awake.

TOCK

      A constant humming,

      the thrash of a drum

      rocking you deeper

      into consciousness

Up

      the volume swells.

      Crescendo, decrescendo,

      rapid jazzy fingers

      on a swinging chime.

Down

      the pitch plummets, the bass trembles;

      quivering and lashing,

      the gush and droning

      suffocates your mentality.

Inhale

      the perfume of shadows

      as the chasm creeps

      through a split in your curtains.

      You fasten them shut.

Exhale

       a slur of breaths,

       thrusting air over your tongue

      with an exasperated

      sigh.

Filed under: unicorns