Here I sit upon your wrist

My digital face blinking figures

Counting up the





Only to come around and start again.


I come complete with

A stopwatch


Hourly alerts

And 2 time zones


And I see how you obsess over me

Like the crazy ex-mistress who can’t get enough of a married man

Constantly checking the time checking the time checking the time

Over and over and over


I am the man-made device that instills a man-made concept.

I aid in your anxiety derived from the mindset of “Never enough time”

I loathe seeing you so stressed over me - what I represent

I’m so sorry.



I hope one day you realize

That these numbers mean nothing.

Just a pattern of lines-

“Numbers” created by illuminating a series of 7 dashes

I hope one day you realize


I am a lie


Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741