Time

It was lying there, a work of art. The shattered Venus demilo, as dead as a stone. It’s form lying open on the ground like an oyster. Red oozed, escaping as though through clasped fingers. The disgusting liquid covering everything in its scarlet embrace, dribbling from the bonnet in a slow steady drone, threatening to drive me insane.
Drip, drip, drip.
It’s eyes as a mirror. Glossy and cold, reflecting my soul for all eternity. My guilt, my pain.
Drip, drip, drip.
I see forever, standing at the mouth of that cavernous hole, searching for the light to follow but it never arrives. Nothing but black stretching on and on. It sends a shiver down my spine as jarring as an icy electric shock.
Drip, drip, drip.
Time lingers close. I feel it’s putrid breath on my neck. Getting stronger, threatening to engulf me in it’s intoxicating fog.
Tick, tick, tick.
The legs are warm. Twigs, trying to snap in my hands. Why will no one help? Can’t they see? Don’t they know? Why can’t they feel the lecherous father time begging for my soul like loose change.
I’ll move this thing,
Tick, tick, tick.