held between fingertips, the sand sinks
through the cracks, funneling till absent.
but I can still feel the rush of grain,
the colliding of corners and burning
friction. I can still feel the weight,
the obligation of its existence
long after it retreated into the abyss.
I lit the last match just to watch it
burn. the last hopes escaping into the
air, never to comeback. a chemical change
cannot be undone. a chemical imbalance
they told me. the happiness disappeared,
only with blue and yellow lights to
dance around my frontal lobes. physically
incapable of joy, I sit here, watching the
old memories fade, replaced by darkness
I, here, holding the ashes.