It's at 12:07 am when the clockwork mechanism of my mind begins to tick. It reminds me of the ticking of a bomb upon which the bomb explodes. Its shrapnel reaches just the edges of my heart but nonetheless it hurts. The blood of it trickles down my wrists and mingles with the tears that fall from my eyes.
The clockwork causes the thrumming of my head.
It's in my bed late at night when I can hear my own heartbeat. I can feel my pulse in my neck and my hands capture my chest and feel its thumping.
It's all a nightly cycle, a vicious cycle, a vicious beast that makes its presence known only in the darkness of the evening.
My lungs contain Uranium and because it's radioactive it sends out rays of loneliness and longing and absence of love.
A piercing sound makes its way to my ears despite the silence surrounding me.
The clockwork causes the thrumming of my head.
It's in my bed late at night when I can hear my own heartbeat. I can feel my pulse in my neck and my hands capture my chest and feel its thumping.
It's all a nightly cycle, a vicious cycle, a vicious beast that makes its presence known only in the darkness of the evening.
My lungs contain Uranium and because it's radioactive it sends out rays of loneliness and longing and absence of love.
A piercing sound makes its way to my ears despite the silence surrounding me.
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