I have a time piece that I wear.

Other people may be aware of it,

But they cannot see it,

And I feel it on my wrist,

Around my neck,

And in my head.

It ticks incessantly.

That’s why I can’t be alone,

Why I can’t handle the quiet.

It’s at its loudest when there are no other sounds to drown it out.

It’s been particularly loud lately.

I think someone’s been messing with the gears.

I love hanging out with my friends,

But sometimes I get the feeling that I’m living

What I’ll miss in a few years.

I want to hold onto these friendships,

But who knows how strong my grips really are.

If they choose to forget me I’ll respect that,

But I don’t know if the memories alone will go far.

I have a time piece.

I think I got it when I was twelve.

I’d take it off if I knew how to,

But now its imprint has left some scars.