The tale of a lonely, delusional man and his only friend... the immobile second hand. |
being alone isn't as bad as I thought I can sing and scream as loud as I want I sit in this room with the lights dimmed surrounded by newspapers, barely skimmed I just wait here patiently, locked away from most of my fears this could have been days or this could have been years for on one regretful night, the sound of time passing by... it scared me. it gave me a splitting headache I pushed the clock down, I watched it fall and I'm still anxiously awaiting your call... but don't worry because I'm doing fine I'm just telling stories of you to my only friend the immobile second hand everyday I part my hair to the side exactly how you like for when you decide to come home or say hi just to let me know that you're still alive... you'll love what I've done with the place too the walls are painted your favorite shade of blue and tonight I set the table and lit two candles at five just like the old days but without the flame's reflection in your eyes I never had the chance to tell you how much I love you the second hand was the only one who listened and knew but he abandoned me too... today he convinced me to fix the clock and he looks so happy going tick... tock... tick... tock... he doesn't realise that he's killing me with every rotation or that he left me to be tortured by my sick and twisted imagination I know this sounds crazy... but maybe you're not coming home this isn't easy, I'll be truly sorry if you arrive while I'm gone I'm gutless and selfish for only waiting this long for tonight I'll part my hair one last time I hope you come see me, I'm wearing your favorite shirt of mine so that maybe I'll impress you when you find this note laying by my side if you read this... know that you were the last thing I thought of before I died |