Killing to Pass the Time

I'm killing the time
by killing my soul.
Each minute passes
faster with the fading.
One second I'm standing.
The next I am falling.
Spiraling down
out of control.
The landing is soon.
Will I land on my feet?
The clock hands move,
my soul is spilling out on the concrete.
I'd beg you to save me,
but that would take too long
for you to come around
and pick up my soul.
So I'm killing me to pass the time.