Tense: a poem on the subject of time

Tense

I wear it as if it were mine

Flying by, violent ticks deride me

Used myself unwisely

I find here what I lose there

Gearing up to re-wind and re-watch on repeat

Yet somehow I counter myself and move backwards

Tense, fractiously laughing in my big picture's background

While fractions of moments scatter-brain by like migraines

I lose track,

As I run out of space to save all that slipped away

I travel past all that might've lasted

Inured to the vivid blur of my future

Holding another stupor, wasted

Bending to the once mentor, turned user,

Turned "never learned" loser

As bright as a sundial at midnight,

The line is tight, so I run,

While standing still to watch it strike

But it stops, right when I would have been present