I watch the ticks tick away
seconds, to hours, and into days...
Scratching my eyes out
to get you to stay.

But time kills everything,
including this, apparently.

And so I can drink until
there's nothing left
(of me).

And so I can wet this page
until it melts away
like so much sewage.

But how long can I hold on to this?

I don't mean to you, or him, or any relationship or want of mine.

I mean to life.