The Seconds Count

The seconds count

Isn’t it odd that of all the hands on a clock, the second hand, bearing the smallest, shortest moments, ticks the most? Each tick sounds through our ears reminding us that every single second is an opportunity lost, or taken. And let us not abandon the fact that of all the hands on a clock, the second hand, bearing the smallest, shortest moments, is longer than the minute hand, and the hour hand. Because a second that passes could last a lifetime, remembered more than the hours and minutes and days that pass.

“These two events can occur simultaneously. Being happy with what you have and who you are whilst wanting to improve upon your life and yourself. You’re allowed to be content and discontent, satisfied and unsatisfied, appreciative and longing. It may seem contradictory, but it’s not. You have to know what you currently have to know what you want. And if you don’t value what you have now, you’ll never value what you gain.”

-Happy New Year

God

I thought that you were perfect,

Perfect for me,

And that we were a perfect combination

But now I see.

When you wronged me, I tried to look inwards to decipher,

What I had failed to do, what made me unlikeable.

But I was foolish and naive to believe that you were flawless,

And like a false icon, I clung to you for guidance.

Not a single apology was expected of you and it was my fault,

I treated you like some twisted domestic god,

So now it’s my time to accept our flaws,

And destroy the pedestal I placed you upon.

Reply

I cling on to your every word,

Your every expression, sigh, whisper,

I desperately try to learn,

All of your mannerisms, gestures, features,

I hit send and I tremble awaiting your response,

I overthink our interactions when they’ve long passed,

My anxiety builds until the weight is too much to bear,

And you continue the torture without a single care.

My Ship pt 3

So when I was forced to flee,

To escape your toxic clutches,

I left half of what I was,

With my ship destroyed and rusted.

A cautionary tale for young travellers at sea,

Do not stop at any nearby beach,

Your trust will be exploited and your kindness betrayed,

Remain free on the sea for all your days.

I

I smile.

Shoulders square, back straight, feet planted firmly in the ground.

If I squint slightly when I laugh it’s more believable.

They won’t notice.

I speak.

Voice loud, strong, pitch low, it bellows through the room.

If I raise my voice on every-other syllable it sounds more believable.

They won’t notice.

I move.

Averagely-paced, deliberate movements, flowing slightly.

If I lean forward with purpose as I walk it looks more believable.

They won’t notice.

I’m getting better.

They never notice, they never will.

I’m fine. Really.

No one would suspect me,

Because I’m the best actress alive,

That’s the only thing I’m certain of.

So when I say I’m fine,

They believe me.

And now, they don’t even ask.