Spilled Ink

Clocks

For one day, I'd like to build a bridge
      long enough to reach the skies,
      to see you even for a while.
Dancing, singing with angels in paradise.

I wanted to see you laugh with my own eyes,
      and not just hear it in a memory muffled by cries.

Was it too selfish of me to ask for just a day?

When I thought I had an eternity,
      all I did was waste them away,
      one by one, day after day;
      foolishly unaware all would be taken from me.

These smiles I wore always lied to me
      for months and months, and I'm tired.
I'm tired of this drug prescribed by everybody.

Feigning always failed at the end of the day;
     the pills of pretend lost their potency.

My every cell screamed of shame and pity.
      I was that candle that refused to lit a flame
      when you were in the dark;
      that empty glass when you were thirsty.
      I was that mirror who refused to lie,
      and chose to feed your insecurities.

I am selfish, then and now.

And I'm sorry,
      I'm sorry my love was unfelt,
      unheard, unknown, all through the years.

I clawed my heart out,
and all I saw were your twinkling eyes.
I burned that candle to the ground,
shattered that useless glass;
I cursed that heartless mirror,
but all I saw were scars.

Scars of your embrace,
      scars that echoed your laughters,
      scars of unfulfilled promises,
      of wasted tick tock of clocks;
      of past mistakes and countless regrets.

Mirrors, mirrors always tell the truth.

They showed me the flaw in my smile;
      it was I—no bridges that led to the sky;
      only I, and all my life's cracks without you.

That precious clock had stopped,
      the one which I cannot revive, no matter what.

I don't deserve even that one day,
      for I was too late when I decided
      to listen to your fading tick tocks.

I know it now; my own clock refused to stop.

*****