when the clock strikes 4.

you may fear the clock is ticking
this place i call home is slowly becoming unrecognizable and my heart, mind, and soul has began to yearn for something more
the spirits around me that linger with forces of protection have shown me signs that the people here are no longer here for my best interest
they know that something better calls my name as they dwell on the after-taste of a dream they never thought of
and as much i love them i don’t care anymore
of their opinions, ideas, or thoughts
because when i sip from the fountain that has my name on it, i will never even think of the puddles they once pissed in.
the first line read *you* may fear the clock is ticking
because when you have befriended the sun and hung out with the stars… you only crave the salty winds of the western ocean.
and trust its not me ego tripping you, its reality checking the collectives