Time (incomplete?)

Curved glass warps the world around me

as I sit within the bottom half of an hourglass

that has slowly filled up over time.

I remember when the trickle began,

I alone in my glass encasement

stepping neatly aside as the sand fell through

grain by grain, I could ignore it as it piled

scrunching my toes in it, making castles

until it had risen above my ankles,

rough and everywhere.

I realized the flow’s speed had increased

and I was being swept away.

I could wipe and swat the sand from my body

only to watch it pile up around my thighs,

my waist, my chest.

I had ignored the constant drizzle,

a nuisance at first, now a full blown concern.

Soon I could not move.

Sand encircled me and held me,

and all I could see was the top half of a distorted image

as the sand rapidly swelled around my mouth and nose

suffocating me, merciless.

It is dark within sand,

dark and gritty.

Air escapes in a way my cries could not,

and when I had all but succumbed to the sand,

my world was flipped.

Eventually I will be freed from the hold of the sand

I mourn as it happens, for the marks will never disappear.

Word Prompt

I wrote this back on October 4th. I have been staring at it and don’t know where to take this.


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