The empty space, staring her down
Glaring at her, from behind.
Gone were the people
who could drown out the sound
She didn’t dare turn around.
Studying the wall, towering and creeping
keeping her mind, as loud as she could
Noticing the cracks and openings
Tracing back to its conjuring.
Glancing up at the, white round face
it’s black embellishments, sharp and pointy
running its red tongue
clicking its teeth, with every second
Its eyes moving,
every hour and minute
She could hear it
Trying to block it out
the footsteps in the hall
the alarms in the next room
the voices, that carried, running
along the concrete walls
But it always comes back
to the Ticking
As waiting, has its own