I held on,
as you slipped,
right through,
my calloused,
fingertips.
My breath,
got caught,
in the back,
of my,
throat.
I swear,
I saw your,
reflection,
beside mine.
Instead it,
was a shadow,
tricking me,
into believing,
you’re not,
dead.
My head,
spins,
searching for,
you.
Running,
out of,
time,
or is,
the clock,
broken?