I sit alone and count the hours
numbered as nothing - nowhere
an endless trail of strangled minutes
wrenched from my fingers

I drink alone the lifeless hours
swirled along the drain of time
a rushing draught drunk as worthless
wrung from my fingers

Alone I watch the wakeful hours
mocking as sleepless I lie
whispers of slumber mine to grasp
drift through my fingers

I am alone in crowded hours
confined, conformed on all sides
until all the colors of my self
drain from my fingers

Who is she, I who am alone?
Once I knew - I thought I knew
now I'm told she is not me, she's
pried from my fingers

I sit alone and feel the hours
numbered as nothing - no one
these hours of dying, they say are sweetness
but how the hour lingers