Tick... Tock

 You tick the way you tick... I tick the way I tick. What if, the way we tick was intended to tick together and the reason no one else gets how deep we are, is because no one else was supposed to match with how we tick. And instead of seeing that our brokenness actually synchs, we're too busy looking at it's flaws. We're therefore diverted, distracted, disillusioned from the fact that we were made this way so that we fit!

So we go around ticking to the wrong people's tock and thinking it's us that need to keep modifying ourselves, when all along, my tick was meant for your tock. Too busy thinking we need the perfect tick to tick with the perfect tock. So we end up passing each other constantly in the night thinking every light in the distance is the lighthouse to paradise. We held hands before, and beyond words, beyond norms, we saw how we lit each other up. That was the only symphony we needed to hear but rose colored lenses kept us blind and fighting, when all we had to do was shut...them...out. If we quieted the noise you would see how beautiful you are to me. If we quieted the noise you would hear how our "broken" ticks fully synched and worked in it's own intended perfection. Our unmatched depth would find their home, but only if we quieted the noise. What is the story you want to write? That you denied me because the world said so? Or that you found where you belonged and got the live the rest of your days being folded in the arms of the home meant for you? It's time to stop standing outside in the rain. The clock is ticking.