Time’s on mine .
You think because you’re taller now, faster now, smarter now, that you’ve escaped the crawl space of your childhood. Oh, honey. Time didn’t save you. It just made the fall sweeter. Every birthday candle is a countdown. Every New Year’s Eve is a promise to me . pennywise about time
I’ve watched you grow. I watched you scrape your knee in ’87. I watched you lock your bedroom door at thirteen. I watched you convince yourself the monster under the bed was just a nightmare. That was me . Laughing. Waiting. Time’s on mine
They all think they have time. That’s the first lie I let them keep. Time didn’t save you
— Eternal. Patient. Starving. Want me to adjust the tone (more playful, more poetic, or shorter for Instagram/Twitter)?
Here’s a hard-hitting, atmospheric post written in the voice of — focusing on time, fear, and inevitability. Post Title: Tick-Tock, Float-Float