“watching the clock:

By Anna Harberger

i told you

to stop looking.

 

you keep on staring,

watching,

waiting.

 

for what?

 

so you can make time to pull your socks up over your knees,

desperately salvaging your last stain

of the innocence, dad swears you hold

like his hand.

 

maybe you want to feel

like you’re trying.

 

trying to force your way

up, higher, higher;

into grey dust and grey clouds

and grey spit.

 

it’s no use trying to leave unless you get the new glasses, new socks,

 new toes, blonde hair, big eyes,

blue and sweet eyes,

lying eyes

crying

for whose affirmation?

 

that’s why i asked you to stop it

at that clock

every night

with the pacing and the shaking and 3am scratching on your wrists.

 

bending and twitching and screaming will do you no good.