Counting Down

I am looking at the clock
trying to turn away
but its hands keep pulling
at my eyes with each tick
and tock

I try not to dwell
on the little time left
until I relive
the shattering moments
of my personal hell

My eyes are dry
I can not blink
but I feel it swelling
up from my heart
and out my eyes

Tears now fall
from the creases
of my eyes
from while I sit
alone, in a stall

My insides churn
my bowels break
memories don't fade
like they're supposed to
instead they burn

Up comes my pain
out of my mouth
it spews
years of love
gone down the drain

I stand and swear
to no one I can see
"How can I tell the girls?"
I shout
my fist rising in the air

The clock is not at fault
yet it
I want to blame
for stealing my time
from my life's vault

Twenty-seven
years is too young
to die and leave me
and my precious girls
to go to heaven