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