This Clock

I never was, am not, and never will be a morning person and I made the executive decision to buy the loudest most obnoxious analog alarm clock known to man. It sits behind my head as I type and ticks away the seconds and though it may not seem like much, these seconds are turning into minutes and hours and days and nights and weeks and months and years and decades and centuries and millennia.
Each tick is counting down the moments until I have to pick my feet up and bring them to school, counting up the seconds that I am spending without you at my side. Constantly showing my movement through time, and yes I know a clock shouldn't be this existential but each second passing is another second pushed from the front half of my life to the back half pushing me closer to adulthood and pulling me farther away from childhood and yes that is the epitome of teendom but I'm not quite used to it and oh god I am so much closer to being 20 than I am to being 10.
Each tick is pulsing through my ears like a percussive beat that is moving way too slowly and let's go faster I promise I can beat you in this race if my legs move any faster I might take off come on keep up your legs are longer than mine any ways