hands

Is it 3:00 already?
When did the clock start to betray me?
I never seem to see those hands move.

Why is nothing ever really okay?
Things never turn out how I want them,
And everyone seems to be fading.

The ground is gone from underneath my feet,
I can't find my head.
My mind slipping from me, endlessly.
I still can't sleep.

The things I used to worry about,
they're seeming trivial, lately.
I see my past as history,
and I can't turn it off.

I'm looking at my former self,
and I'm forced to call her a fool.

I've seen my past acts of selfishness,
and how I've been retooled.

I still can't sleep,

there are no good thoughts in my head,
sometimes I'm wishing myself dead.
My patience has run out, for me.

I hate my situation,
but I'm not well enough to change it.

So I try to see those hands move,
and wait for time to rescue me.

Wow That is some emotional poetry.I think that you have good rhythm in the poem because nothing seems forced. If I were you I might try spreading the questions throughout the poem so the reader doesn't get bombarded with questions when they first start reading.

The ground is gone from underneath my feet

I would change underneath to beneath because I think it sounds better.

There are no good thoughts in my head,
sometimes I'm wishing myself dead.
My patience has run out, for me.

Hopefully my changes help you. Fiction

Hey there, Hobbit! This looks pretty interesting, so let's see what we've got.

The only thing that really stood out to me was the jumping of ideas between your first stanza and your second. You go from talking about the clock to saying how nothing is ever okay. Relate your second stanza back to the clock to ease into the rest of your poem.

Your comparison between the clock (representing time) and... your problems? That part seemed vague to me. It felt like you were jumping about what to compare it to and just spilled out all of your problems here and there. The not-falling-asleep part was interesting, but could have been easily expanded upon to relate to one problem. It can be that the person is selfish, self-loathing, a fool, or whatever you want. Just make it work!

Questions bother me in poetry. Here, it sounds like you're asking yourself questions. Why not make it just a passing thought without asking a question? Like, "I wonder why...". You're aiming for your readers to ask questions or wonder about what you're writing (and I mean in a good way). They don't want your questions, they want to formulate their own. Your job as a poet is to get them thinking or feeling what you're saying.

Overall, it's a nice piece. Solid. But practice your writing and you'll get even better. Keep at it!

~Selene