Alarm Clock
I am an alarm clock.
I wonder how people set me to go off in the morning.
I hear the sound of a hand about to smack me instead of tapping me.
I see a hand coming hard.
I want to tell him that you're supposed to touch me, but I am too nervous.
I am scared and doomed.
I pretend It will be alright
I feel fine now.
I touch my numbers carefully.
I understand he needs me to wake him up in the morning.
I say, “I do not want to do this, but I must.”
I dream about him waking up happily tomorrow.
