I Need More Tick Tock

If I had more time

To unwind rewind the fast forwarded

Crime in the brain salted lightly

Not everything is flighty 

Alrighty

Every morning the dawn before the sun

As clocks tick life to dust

Tick Tock Tick Tock

From the rust and blood 

Our spirits rise from our ashes

Because it clashes with nearby stashed of gasoline and gunpowder

Boom

Of I had more time

Every depression in the brain 

Might not have caused so much pain

Makes is insane these ice packs that

Only prolong the inevietable flame

Becauss the best time to write at night 

Is not during a high flight

But when it rains and the tears that make up oceans 

Fall to the floor catching the dust

As it settles inward introspection

The eyes drift on searching

Learning 

Yearning 

For the girl that time forgot

Instead, she floats down rivers of sand in the

Time Lord's hourglass 

Pouring the rug out to the illustrious 

Winds

Blowing

Twisting

Contorting

Flowing

If I had more time

To fly in the breeze

Maybe I would know what it's like to be free

I wouldn't need to sleep

Floating in homeostasis

The places 

We find wouldn't seem so worthless

Every run down gas station

Roadside cave

To bring about inflammation not creation

We find death within the glass eyes

Of stolen dyes that cries and cries like someone

That stared death in the face saying

"I love you"

Look there, all the nights sky is red with affliction

Red with addiction to fiction written in friction only now 

Slipping you pills of diction

Creating imagery in your own mind like 

Something out of a 70's trip

To the moon we will fly

Wayching God roll by in a UFO

Asteroids crashing him into smashing bits of 

Dust that will eventually become a tiny yet gigantic star

If I had more time

I could explain my bass line of 

Crashes, sounds and drops 

Bombs of sound wave blowing minds that

Are somehow still alive

Champions of nights still ride onward

Flowing on waves of synthetic beeps and boops

Never as good at gathering information

As the one known as Deep Throat

Arpeggiated notes handed to the newspaper

Like chords tapped 

Listening to mixtapes

Not unlike the ones your friends make

Take a chance to just stand up

And make a move

Dance to the groove

So smooth not as glass

More like breaking waves of oceansides

Only because we like to be stronger

Justifying the butterflies we slay

So why not lay here and wonder why

We can't fly

We can't all be truly free

Maybe if I had more time...

 

This poem is about: 
Me
Our world

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