A toxic relationship with time (a poem)
January 18, 2022
Time warps
and wraps
around my body,
gripping my neck
and catching my breath
with reckless cruelty.
Time slides
and slithers
down my spine,
curling its way
around my hips
and my lips
like an intimate embrace.
Time floods
and feasts on
my state of mind…
But I’ll be fine,
right?
Right?
Time creeps
and crawls,
and brags
and brawls,
and swears it didn’t mean it.
But I can’t lie,
I sigh, I cry.
Oh, time,
if I could beat it.
Time, you beautiful catastrophe—
you illustrious monstrosity.
You have us in the palm
of your perpetually ticking hands.
And we pretend to be satisfied,
masqueraded in closed eyes and open grins:
content when we’re not restless,
restless when we’re not content.
Time, oh time,
I can’t promise I’ll never get bored of you,
but I promise I’ll always want more of you.
And time, I’m chasing you,
I’ve been chasing you for ages,
but I can’t catch up.
My lungs fill with fire,
and my legs begin to freeze…
and I know I should scream for help,
I know,
I know,
trust me, I know.
But the only words that escape me are
“Wait.”
“Wait!”
“Please, wait!”
Oh time,
I’m mystified by your every minute;
captivated by your cerebral silence;
enchanted by your endless mystery.
Time, oh time, my darling time—
there is beauty in your cruelty,
and cruelty in your beauty.
Your paradoxical presence
motivates us, debilitates us.
All.
At.
Once.
It could be better, it could be worse.
Some moments a blessing,
some moments a curse.
But if you dared to disappear,
I’d be at my wits’ end.
Time…
dear time,
what would I do without you?