i am my own escape from my own mind
taking my own sweet time
to calculate the day in a straight line
straightening crooked spines
and spooked minds like yours and mine alike
i'm just a metaphor for my state of mind
leaving my soul behind, i climb
up the steps to your door,
like i've been here before
and knock with the rhythm of a clock
the same tick tock mocking, begging me to stop,
but i've never been one to listen
to reason or rhyming lines
i find solidarity in nothing but the passing of time
as i stand knocking, rapping knuckles
til i buckle under the weight
from the pressure to wait for an escape
it seems i made my exit too late...
or were it early, there's nothing for me
but the prospect of being
something greater i'm not seeing
so i wait at your door
with nothing more than before
except the promise of everything
and more
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