In the darkness, everyone wants to see the light. Not me. I'd like to just see first. I'd like to see a smile, a wave, a hello. Maybe. The last hello didn't end well. Will this one?
"The clock struck twelve"
It's gone. The time's run out. How could I have missed that? I've been so careful. Checking and rechecking. I'd look every time. Too scared to close the tab because what if when I come back, there's nothing left?
"There's no tick-tock on your electric clock"
Now I can feel it in the holes between my thoughts, the crescents of the turn table. The closing of the chapter. Why did the chapter end? What does the next chapter read? You've let go, but have you really gone? I'm sure it is so.
"It's time to go. We're calling your number now you see. The clock's run out."
They think they can stop me. They think that they'll catch me. When I'm gone, trust me I'm gone. I wish I didn't have to go. But I do. Don't I? Let the tide carry me away. Let the salty water fill the gaps in my thoughts. Let it rush into the missing pieces. Let it go.