Time’s Confessions

The thick, heavy hours creep behind me,
lethargically following me into my personal hell.
Life slows down and elongates itself into eternity.
Time spawns replicas of itself, burgeoning forth as every instant feels like infinity.
Each second hurls itself at me,
expectantly waiting for me to placate the duration with purpose.
But I am trapped in the confessions of my head.
Anxiety spectacularly begins to surface.
Panic reproduces itself.
Each moment breeds another moment,
another opportunity to surfeit upon the frenzy of disquieting
thoughts in the indiscernible distance.
The battle continues.
My thoughts stage a hostile takeover,
targeting my unwillingness to listen.
Against my will and with the sanction of time, the merge is complete.
The new memories come to me in waves, but
I nor my tears could have been prepared.
Time may stop now.

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