An Old Friend

Defines the past,

present

and future.

Numbers

dictate me,

my life;

Us.

 

 

You and me

defined by age

segregated into sections-

fractions

that dictate

our beginnings and ends.

The beginning of the end.

Great divides are forged

and paths are withered

into oblivion,

or carved out

in a pragmatic fashion.

 

 

 

I’ve pleaded with time

but

he mocks me

wherever I go.

 

 

 

He refuses to slow…

even when I’m trying

to remember

who I am-

where I’m going

and

them-

the past.

 

 

 

The people

who were ruled by time before

me.

He dictates who is around me,

those who call on me

or

can relate to me.

 

 

 

Time sits with me

when I’m nostalgic.

Laughs at me

when I make another rotation around the sun.

He knows my fear.

One day

he’ll cut my cord,

the same way

he has unwoven his ties

to those around me.

Letting them fade

into the comfort of darkness

that inevitability provides.

Forever forgotten by time-

who sits perched

at my shoulder,

clicking his tongue

and chanting:

Tick, tock.

Tick, tock.

Tick, tock.

 

 

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