Half awake, half past noon
grey light shines dutifully
just past my eggshell
window sill.

I try to clear my head,
collect my scattered
thoughts, straighten all
the heart strings that get
so inevitably tangled within
one another, and definitely in

the web of uncertainty you've
woven for me.

I've walked for centuries upon
a sand filled beach, a dozing meadow
mostly cement and concrete
I never thought I'd be more
concerned about someone other
than me.

You're slipping away, so ever
slow, day by day
you're getting tired,
and it's getting too late
for me to be saved.