Tick, tick, tick
The internal wind-up clock
never stops
Tock, tock, tock.
Not enough time
I look for extra moments
In the day
Finding none,
I ration my breath
As I rush from a to b
Then c to d,
And e to f,
Holding it miserly,
Like the gold it is
Some days,
I feel so cruel
How could I be the one
To make others
Come unglued?
Swallowing past the lump
In my throat
Is it me?
Or the situation?
Deep gasps,
Then onward
A warm home,
Hugs and kisses,
Little man falling asleep
Moments after the tv turns on
Trusting me implicitly,
I carry him upstairs
Draped in shades of love
Once again
Sharing his sweet snores
And just like that,
The vise loosens
And I inhale again