The sun
Outside my window
A constant reminder that time knows no limits
The inner clock of life, of flesh and breath
Never ceases to tick
The seconds synchronizing in an eerie rythmic harmony
with the clock on my walls
So pale and bare
A constant reminder of my ever evolving age
and what has become of me

My mind escapes me as I helplessly watch
The needle work it's way through grooves
in another lonely piece of vinyl
Afraid
To interfere with the bizzare cosmic workings of a thing
Called time
Never stopping to sympathize
Only seeming to illusively slow itself
in a fit of intoxication and clouded perception

And so the sun sets, replaced by the moon
A constant reminder of my ever nearing death
Time is empty, knows no boundries
Space and feeling are irrelevant to the inner clock of life
Of flesh, of breath
Never ceasing to tick
Even as I lie lethargic on a Sunday afternoon
A second
Never long enough
We're running out of time