Poetry** is the ADHD of literature

I woke up a villian from my worst nightmare
Too scared to defend those that really matter
Seeing the heroes of the story
And watching all their dreams shatter
Weaponless against the clock
That just keeps ticking
If time is all that really matters
Then why am I still breathing?
I can't control the emotionless toll it takes on my mind
I'll never be brave enough to try and turn back time
It ticks a little faster whenever I'm running late
And slows down completely when I try to test fate
On a date with the mastermind behind all my evil plans
He's death incarnate but still proud of my artistic scams
And yet I find myself feeling ashamed of who I am

The blood splatter dripped and pooled at the floor
       Even time slipped amidst all the gore

I wish the mind was as self-healing as the **body

I opened myself up and pulled my ribs to the side
        Trying to find something that matters.
                   Something to stick to.
A religion,               a belief,
                |Anything
And in the              dark empty space
                |I found
Whatever                  led me to understand who I                                Thought I was
                **|was already dead.

If I could find the connection between each raindrop,
     No matter how infinitesimal,
I know I'd be *OK