A Little Past 10

So here's another poem. Let me know your thoughts. Good, bad, honest, ugly- any of it. I'd appreciate any of your opinions. Also, this poem has influence from how I'm feeling right now mixed with emotions of the past that can be found in my poems like "Hollow", "Flowers on the Grave" and quite a bit of others. I also included some allusions to a couple of those mentioned poems.

Chapter 1


The clock begins to tick
closer and closer to when I must Escape,
but as the seconds pass
the shadows become more clear and begin to shape.

I can start to sense their dark presence
and I can feel them begin to suffocate me
pushing me further and further away from my sleep
that was much needed in hopes to flee.


I just want to be caught in the midst of dreams
but instead it's quarter past 10 and I'm caught in the midst of clouds in my eyes
where tears are starting to rain
and I can't make out the truth from the lies.

It doesn't help that as expressed a few months ago
I'm hollow to the point of haunt
because I can hear empty voices take over my mind
that are pushing me until all I have left is my Skeleton to flaunt.

While I'm writing this, the clock continues to tick
and I can begin to imagine the flowers on my grave
because I'm so sick of the screams echoing in my head
that are telling me I'm nothing more than some sort of slave.

It's all just so somber
where I can hear the crackling of a witch's laughter
and the ticking of a clock that's now sobbing murder
because it's happening in my own head once night comes after.

Maybe though through the midst of the tears that are pouring
I can find a way to cry myself to sleep
so that what I'm met with next is the sun reaching for a new day
causing me to Rise from the ashes and no longer be so lost in the end that's deep.


It's now half past 10
which means 15 minutes have now ticked away
so as that clock continues to dance with time
I hope tonight isn't my failure- because I would still like to have this painful stay.


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