Crude clocks.

Time doesn’t heal. The passing of hours, days, and years won’t mend the heart or regrow a limb.
Time doesn’t change every loss and make you feel better about a single sin.
Time teaches pain to ebb and flow. Time is the moon pulling the waves in moments you can’t control.
Some days are calm. Some days are storms. Some are a red and purple flags on a deserted shore.
I haven’t been healed by the minute hand. The hour hand digs into my spine.
Time has weakened the control of my heart and strengthened the rule of my mind.
The hurt comes in waves just when you think your bow has leveled out on the peaks.
Time shines bright on the night you think you’ve found peace. It goes dark in the day and, leaving you to just use your brain, silencing the untrustworthy beats.
Tonight Time is as bright as the moon. Pulling in waves and gulping down the crashes with each ebb and each flow.
Time doesn’t heal a damn thing…it just pushes and pulls on all of the hurt that you’ve known.

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