I asked for an hour,
but the sand keeps flowing,
never slowing,
never pausing long enough
for me to catch my breath.
The light above fades softer now,
a dying sun through the glass,
while grain by grain
the weight of time buries me alive.
Moments spent become a graveyard,
moments left become a prayer.
Each second steals more air from my lungs,
fills my mouth with silence,
packs my ribs with the dust of what could’ve been.
Still, I remain.
Because even suffocating beside you
felt kinder than emptiness.
Because some time
no matter how fleeting,
no matter how crushing,
is still better
than no time at all.