Home » Poems » Aaliyah O'Neil » Rush Hour

Rush Hour

I clock in my own breath,
Minutes stack like folding chairs.
My limbs queue for permission,
Time herds me through its turnstiles.
We all wear the same silence—
Pressed suits, creased with wanting.

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Paige Hind

May 18, 2025 at 8:42 PM

What a line "clock in my own breath"- it goes with the theme of your poem

Aaliyah O'Neil

May 19, 2025 at 1:47 PM

Thank you so much. I’m glad that line stood out to you and felt connected to the poem’s theme. It was important to me to capture that sense of timing and presence.

Duke Beaufort

May 6, 2025 at 1:05 PM

Aaliyah, another poet here told me to check out some of your work. This poem makes me think of that time of day as quite depersonalizing. I hope you're not victimized by this feeling to often...Smiles!!

Aaliyah O'Neil

May 10, 2025 at 9:55 AM

Thank you so much for taking the time to read my work—I'm honoured that another poet recommended it to you. I really appreciate your thoughtful reflection; that time of day can certainly feel quite depersonalising. Thankfully, writing helps me process those feelings rather than be overwhelmed by them. I'm grateful for your kind words and the smile.

Rush Hour

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