time

Merciless

it will crawl,

no,

fly on

against the winds beating it back,

against the winds of my emotions,

my fears,

my worries.

Slipping away like sand from my fingers,

or like oil,

slimy

oozing away

gone essentially

but still leaving it’s mucous mark

to mock me:

I was here

but now it’s too late.

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