It's not the end of everything
Just of what was left
And how to salvage nothing when
You walked out with the rest.

It was only one chance left
To shape the words with baited breath
And yet what slipped past gritted teeth
Plagues my waking memories.




I'm not the type to barter,
To plead for what's not mine.
But I would trade my everything
For just a touch of time.