Time sits in my belly like something unnatural in the waters of a slow sunrise.
Daybreak - it ripples as it's dropped from the sun.
Late morning - it curls up in a ball and sinks.
Early afternoon - it bobs to the surface and smiles.
Evening - it escapes behind the mountains in a flurry of pink.
Fresh legs to take it where it pleases.
At night - I feel it well up inside of me
It's the angry fire of an glowing and eternal drowning.
My lungs fill with a briny nothingness I can't expel nor explain.
And the time in my tummy keeps ticking and counting.
It's the feeling of falling with
Nothing but empty air rising up to catch me.
Placing, in my mind, all of the scenarios around me
Hoping even just one of them is enough to ground me this time.
I crave that enlightenment.
The future - it sits in my mouth like a light bulb.
Easy to dream of more than my anatomy will allow.
Pull it out, and risk breaking the jawbone.
Bite down and suffer the consequences of my eagerness.
Bite down anyway.
Forever counting, that ticking time bomb in my tummy.
Crawling up my throat and out from between my teeth
At regular intervals.
That frustratingly honest ticking
Smothered beneath the blanket of vacant distractions
And hilarious distortions of the truth.
Plummeting from the stars
Only an absoluteness of decent
Breaking the surface,
bone and body,
As lifeless as a coin from a child's fat fingers.
All form unravels,
Releases me, and there's a fire inside, but I'm so cold.
Belly time bomb, counting.