I Could Be Something Done Poetic

I just need time. But time isn't what I have or want.
I wish time could be inconsequential, like TV programming or waffles.
Then maybe--not to get heavy or anything--I could be something.
Things could turn out alright.

I stole a clock from my school. Their clocks were always on time.
I figured, heck, this might mean something, like the word defenestrate or the Bible.
Then maybe--not to get artsy or anything--I could be poetic.
Now it's on my wall and it just freaks me out.

I keep telling myself that I'm running out of it.
In my mind that sounds positive, like leaving Detroit or escaping a rip current.
But really--not to throw a pity party or anything--I could be done.
The clock could strike midnight on me.

And being finished has a certain deliciousness to it.