Watching You Sleep

White teeth and gold-coated gums.

This has never been so damn fun.

Raise your solo-cups to the good times; let's celebrate.

Another year gone by,

now let's sit in our graves roll over and meditate.

Ten.

Nine.

Eight.

Seven.

Six.

Five.

Four.

Three.

Two.

Kiss her.

This moment is gone and you're lying in your bed.

Haunted by her lips,

you only feel the fearful dread.

Your call to God is a prayer left on voicemail.

As she pushes her body back against your hips.

It's three o'clock.

Four.

You don't want to do this anymore.

Dancing with time, she shows you a man in black clothing.

You look at your white shirt and the stains are getting darker.

Blood rushes down your ears.

You really don't want to be here.

Your death clock sleeps on your wrist and 

your terrified it's alarm will wake itself up.