My Clock Doesn’t Tick


The rain is pouring down.

The light is getting dim.

All I can think about.

Is the colour of your skin.


My eyes soaking wet.

From the drops streaming down.

Living without you.

It’s the loneliest sound.


The days are passing by.

The hours go so slow.

Withering flowers.

Just wanted you to know.


Moment to moment.

This clock doesn’t tick.

Maybe it’s been broken.

It’s stuck there like a brick.


It’s getting kind of lonely.

All I think about is you.

Life is kind of funny.

I thought your love was true.


Dreaming of you nightly.

In the day, I’m dreaming too.

Wish your glass was empty.

I’d fill it up for two.


I’d watch you when you’re sleeping.

The lines upon your face.

The time goes by so slowly.

Those lines I can’t replace.


An unmistakeable feeling.

Wrapped in much despair.

Looking up at the ceiling.

Undone, I need repair.


Waiting for the right moment.

Waiting for too long.

There’s never going to be a next time.

And there’s no end to this song.


I tried, I tried, and tried.

I cried, I cried, I cried.

But the bed has been made.

I can’t cry no more.

I walked into your life.

You walked out of the door.


You loved me and left me.

That’s what you did.

You cried and said sorry.

You know you’re not a kid.


Trembling in agony.

You’re selfish and cruel.

Trembling without you.

But I’m just a fool.


I thought that you loved me.

I thought you really cared.

My soul, it’s on empty.

My clock needs to get repaired.


Sometimes I wonder.

When the rain hits the pane.

If  someone is out there.

Somewhere whispering my name.


The cold chill of the thought.

It makes me go insane.

The raindrops, they keep falling.

They’re pouring now in vain.


Wishing you were near me.

Wish the sky was blue.

I wish that you could hear me.

My heart belongs to you.


The rain is getting louder.

Shrieking in my ear.

My pillow is getting dirty.

Or wet, but I don’t care.


A foolish girl on empty.

No harm, no foul they say.

But the game was played.

The bed was made.

No choice, but to stay away.


I wanted you so badly.

Morning breath until dust.

You cry cause you’re on empty.

I’m shattered in disgust.


I wish this clock would tick now.

It’s broken like my heart.

I’m really feeling sick now.

Can’t we go back to the start. 

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Anne Cohen

Founder, Owner, Writer, and Editor at Anne Cohen Writes
Anne Cohen is a lifestyle and relationship blogger based in Los Angeles, CA. Her blogs are Anne Cohen and Anne Cohen Writes. She contributes to various publications including The Huffington Post, Elite Daily, and many more. She's passionate about love, writing, chess, and more than anything, her two kids.
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