Even With Both Hands Moving

Tick.
Keep your mind busy.
Tick.
Keep your hands moving.
Tick.
Take some pills and fall asleep.
Tick.
It's 3am and the pills have worn off.
Tick.
The ceiling is a white canvas for your imagination.
Tick.
You put on headphones and listen to music to block it all out.

Tick.
But the lyrics.
Tick.
The next song too.
Tick.
How about television?
Tick.
Reruns, boredom takes over.
Tick.
Your mind needs something to do.
Tick.
More pills, more music, more television, more sleep.

Tick.
The phone lights up.
Tick.
Do you look at it?
Tick.
You're desperate.
Tick.
Just a spam email.
Tick.
You lay back down.
Tick.
      Tock.
             Tick.
                   Tock.
                          Tick.
                                Tock.

You tell yourself only a few more days.
Just a few, you'll get through it.
Not knowing is killing you.
Knowing could be all that much worse.
How could it get worse?
It always gets worse.
More pills.
More music.
More television.
More sleep.

It's morning.
Rinse, Repeat.

~E J Royson