carmine mica
Fractured Clock
The glass face of my clock has many cracks
Each crack comes from the pain from someone close
When they stole petals from my dying rose
I look at them, they give me dark flashbacks
Every time, they seem slower than the last
Every time, they seem more distorted, too
Every time, they feel a bit more askew
Feels like it’s been hours, yet no time had passed
DING. DΟNG. It’s eerie chime pounds on my ears
DING. DΟNG. Each time makes me see my worst fears
I fall to my knees, I can’t take much more
My rose lays with no petals—withering
Those who stole from it wait here, slithering
Wait for when they can strike my very core
quartz hatch