Little Green Clock

I Think This One Is Broken


I can just about hear it ticking.


When the alarm sounds it wakes me up or rather disturbs my sleep.


It stands at about 5cm tall.


Although it's not one of the main features in my room, it is one thing I look for without even knowing - the time.


Made up of acrylic and cardboard.


Grass green acrylic, bottle green green cardboard, white numbers and silver acrylic handles.


Handles pointing to seven and ten which confirm that I shouldn't be awake.


The seconds hand is always on the move letting the other handles know that soon it'll be their turn.


The minute hand waits for a short amount of time moving every sixty seconds.


But the hour hand is patient, it waits for its chance to move every sixty minutes.


My little green clock controls all that goes on in this room.


From the moment I wake up in the morning until I fall asleep in the evening.


Who knew something so small could hold so much power.


Time.

Filled With Ink

The Tools

As the pages of notebook have more ink poured over them, I begin to feel lighter.


My head empties but everyday something new is added, one thought leaves and another takes its place.


When the ink runs dry, my headaches return - my mind isn't at rest.


The thoughts and ideas eventually expire.


Wasted without a chance to showcase their full potential.

Untitled

Blinded By Love

I no longer wish to feel like this, the exhaustion is another form of depression.

Rejected by the man that haunts my sleep, I fear one day my heart will seize to beat.

Filled with pain that thing which is trapped between two lungs shall never be released.

The tears are absorbed by my pillow but the emotions flood the page.

Dedicated To The Lover...

I'm Guessing They Found Each Other Irresistible

As I hear the kisses he applies to my neck, my knees start to weaken. 

 

His hands move from my hips to my inner thighs and I’m on my back again, we kiss, the taste he leaves in my mouth is delicious. 

His kisses always keep me hungry but he finds many ways to satisfy my appetite. 

Listening to his heartbeat as I lay on his smooth chest, I can tell that he is as nervous as I am. 

Perhaps afraid? 

Afraid of what we could become. 

I think of things I would be doing if I was not with him, and I get nothing. 

The dates in my diary will always be open, for me to receive his love. 

Love? 

Much more lover, no definition as to what is going on but the moments we spend together I cherish, until we go back to our normal lives.

His scent is a combination of where he rests his head and the things that he wraps his beautiful skin in. 

I close my eyes, when I open them, I see him, I see my lover, my darling lover.

I return to my bed and he sleeps alone in his, I hope.