It is not a place of distance, but a place apart.
My teeth get *****, just like my thoughts and heart.
I have yet to find the purpose,
and acknowledge what it's worth.

The straps on my watch have broken,
But hands are always moving.

I remember the look of your eyes
as you slipped past conscienceness into a world unspoken.
Muscles stiff, and bones locked.
Lips losing life. All was blue.
I held up your head, eyes rolling back--
I had to leave the room.
I cried by the window.
Those eyes, your eyes,
were not yours for that moment.

It is not a place of distance, but a place apart.

I have brushed my teeth,
and reconsidered it all.
Our hearts continue to beat,
and you have risen from your fall.

I may not have found the purpose,
but I've still got the time.