I could quit this job today,
Then what? Starve for pay?
I could pack and fly away,
Planes crash every day.
I could text a stranger, “Hey,”
She’ll just ghost, anyway.
I could taste a brand new life,
Bitter bites of plastic hype.

Tick-tock, I want more,
Knocking, scratching at the door,
I see you shake, afraid to start,
Fear keeps time inside your heart.

I could paint, I could sing loud,
You’re too old to please a crowd.
I could move to somewhere cold,
Freeze alone, grow tired, grow old.
I could turn my phone to mute,
Then you’re gone , obsolete, brute.
I could sleep and skip the news,
You’ll wake lost, no likes, no views.

Tick-tock, I want more,
Knocking, scratching at the door,
You chase the sun, it burns your skin,
Fear moves in, and calls it “home.”

I could dance in pouring rain,
Slip, get sick, repeat the pain.
I could trust, or fall in lust,
They’ll just swipe, delete your trust.
I could shout and break the mold,
The world likes copies, nice and sold.
I could breathe and just exist,
But even that’s a waiting list.

Tick-tock, I want more,
Knocking, scratching at the door,
You tried to fight, but I remain,
Fear just smiles, it knows your name.