Click, tick, tick, tick,
Sounds of the the clock,
Their beginning to sound more like pounds of my heart.
Swiftly swaying in lifes sweet obsessions.
Its no wonder why I use this as protection.
Letting it out and letting it in.
Where did my insanity begin?
Sighing and crying for the things I make up.
Only in my mind, screaming to shut the fuck up.
I make believe and pretend to know not a thing,
When really I dream of just spreading my wings.
Forgetting about time, forgetting the race,
Floating in circles like planets in space.
I hate the idea that I’m a fallen star,
Refractions of light become who we are.
I want to be me, not a familiar face.
Not the girl next door or the girl that they traced.
I want to fall off of the grid once again,
Only this time no rescue, this time just friends.
But then I’d be lying to everyone again,
Because aren’t we all just looking to be loved?
Yet with all this dishonesty its hard to know trust.


About Robyn

"If you haven't known insanity, you haven't lived."
This entry was posted in Psychosis State (USA) and tagged , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to Clock

  1. Pingback: Embraced Seduction | Primal Night's

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