The hour hand crawls,
The minute hand rides slow,
And the second hand isn't guaranteed.
Breathes taken for granted,
That unspoken invincibility;
Cloaked in procrastination
Uncovered by death; untimely
What followed by if's
That never graph suicide to the X axis
Tic Tac Toe
Hints of direction
That speak dispiritedly in manufactured smiles
Secret skeletons discovered
In a hidden closet,
Pain gagged in the back
For I walked through the valley of shadow
Of my death
And the clock palms rewind to darkness
Of the depression that I fight to escape
As I contemplate the idea of freedom;
Death; Help
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