Lost time.

The beating, pounding, thudding pain. The sound of my heart in my throat and I panic. I know it's here. I know that feeling upon me. I'm waiting for the pressure to release. And there is only one course of action...
Why time do you harp on my memory's weary hands. I see these hands in moments fleeting and gone. You move too fast for me time. I've watched shadows of what once was, flit before my conscience and be gone again. Why me? Why do you persist at this constant berrating of my mind. You walk faithfully by each other weary body, holding their hands and guiding. On my very heart you stomp your quickened pace; insisting upon running over my very flesh and turmoil. You left me only with the pain and the memory of the afair, so fleeting, that once was. Why, time, do you speak of me as a lover once long ago; as a lost soul. As one more memory of a person gone. I huddle here, watching these raw and beaten hands tremembling. I'm waiting for your return. I'm still alive. Have you forgotten me? I Wait.
Listen to that beating, pounding, thudding pain. Do you not hear me time?
I am anxious for your return. I want you to pass with me and take me from this forever moment in pain. Take me from this world, time. And heal me. I want the after. The tick, slow tick; Beating... Thudding... I Wait...