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time flows heavily,

stream of numbers and ticks,

growing finitely scary,

the sun still sets,

tea's brewing, your cold slender hands,

wraps around mine,

“it's okay, it's alright,

there's still tomorrow to grieve,

of what you could've and should've done,”

ticking loudly,

“the time will pass anyway”,

mouth the drawings on my thighs,

the time will pass anyway,

sighing the guilt away,

you dragged me leisurely,

cracking me open like a saint would,

tear me apart, mouthing “i love you”s,

turn me inside out, grow the mold,

and i'm at the riverside,

sewing down the clouds,

all that i have left.

written on 8th of august, 2023