time passes

the clock on the walled paused

the tick tock of the hand

faultered in its revolution

around the face.

and then it resumed;

so did my heart.

i watched it complete

one time around.

held my breath

at every subtle twitch

convinced it would stop

again.

it didn’t.

focused now on my hands

i ponder the letter

i had just finished

for the fifth time.

back to the clock.

still ticking.

maybe a sixth.

it needed to be neater.

cleaner.

i don’t hear the clock

hand still moving

gears turning in my brain.

the letter.

one more time.

my hand reached instinctively to the scar.

stopped.

i moved to grab the pen.

one more time.

the clock revolves.

it stops.

i stop.

tick

tock.

the clock.

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