“watching the clock:
By Anna Harberger
i told you
to stop looking.
you keep on staring,
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,
for whose affirmation?
that’s why i asked you to stop it
at that clock
with the pacing and the shaking and 3am scratching on your wrists.
bending and twitching and screaming will do you no good.