The sound of clocks rings in my ears
Gravity can no longer hide these fears
Raised hairs on the back of my neck
Not knowing what to expect next
Tip toe. Run. Tip toe. Run.
No other choices present themselves
Rain infused thoughts linger in my head
Of what I would rather do instead.
Choice’s dangle above me
Icicles they’ve become
Watching my every step
As if it’s my last one.

M.STEIN