Or will that just make it steal away my breathing doubly as fast?

Sometimes it seems
as though
the clock ticks simply
to spite me

as the hands muddle through
the muck imposed
by my trying glance
my
futile glance.

Smugly
I remove its batteries
and try as I might
to hide them
in my pocket
still, my hair turns gray

...I think that perhaps
I'll break that clock in two.