but i'm holding on for dear life.

Oh, I am weary,
Though tears no longer flow;
My eyes tired of weeping,
My heart sick of woe.

- Anne Bronte.

------------

Tick tock.
Watching the hands move,
enjoying the moment of silence,
just listening to the sounds of the ticking.

Time passes,
energy drains.

It's piling up.

Tick tock.
Watching the hands move;
eyelids closing, heart rate slowing,
listening to the hypnotic sounds of ticking.

Time is spent,
energy is used.

It's piling up further.


Tick tock.

Hearing the ticking;
eyes closed. breathing slowed,
the ticking begins to fade.

Time is gone,
energy is gone.

It's a pile up.


Dong.
The eyes open.
Dong.
The heart rate increase.

Dong. Dong.
The hands stopped at twelve,
the time stood still,
the energy flowed away.


The pile up overspills.


--------


The clock strikes twelve.
The sweat sliding off the side of her face
while she holds her cards
expressionless.

Bluff.

She places her cards face down,
except for the ace of spades.

Pushing the card to the opponent,
a smirk appears.
The opponent stopped her hand,
pushing the ace of spades back at her.

She watched the ace of space moving towards her,
the tip of the ace pointing at her.

Cheat.

The face paled;
the expectation withdrawn.
The mind loses it's grip,
grasping sanity like a loose thread.

You can bluff yourself,
but you can't cheat death.

--------

And I'll be tired until I break down.

----------------

M.

won't look down, won't open my eyes.