RSS

Tag Archives: The Clock

Its Loneliest Tick

Its Loneliest Tick

“There is loneliness in this world, so great that you can see it in the slow movement of the hands of the clock.” — Charles Bukowski

It’s the intangible sensation that creeps beneath your skin, surfacing out, thrilling your nerves with unbearable chill.  It’s the undefined emotion that sculls your fear through the waves of your mind.  It’s the unsolicited presentiment that rooms into your thought, clearing all your mind’s furniture of sanity.  It’s that moment when hope abandons you, as fear torments you.

It’s dark.  Night-dark.  Casket-dark.  Darkest dark your vision could ever recognize.  It fuels the forever restless engine, sitting, rusting down the pit of the unmapped space of your heart.  It unlocks your forced-lock fear like vampires disturbed and awakened from their deep sleep down the deepest part of the dungeon by a single drop of fresh blood.  It skulls into your mind picture after picture of fangs, claws and misshapened shadows.  It shrinks your heart into an impossible fold where you cringe yourself in fear and sorrow.  You cower yourself exceedingly small as you keep watching over crawlies underneath your bed.  It feeds from your loneliest memory of the past.

It ticks, and it never stops.

Advertisements
 
Leave a comment

Posted by on March 24, 2017 in The Avenue

 

Tags: , , , , , , , , ,

 
%d bloggers like this: