The hours stand in an even row,
ticking beside an uneven pulse.
I walk barefoot across the cold floor
through the stuttering what ifs.
Water freezes in short and long words.
Sometimes I want to scream,
something is taking us from ourselves,
leaving us outside for seven years.
Other hands seal our fate.
A helpless anger, taken in small sips,
swells under my fingers when panic arrives.
What if they take this small room
where do we write our new lives?
We were sorted
before we reached this place.
A law letter covered good intentions,
heavy eyelids under a burning forehead.
A moment ago, the world was simpler.
What if we get stuck,
what if we cross the border,
what if we cut our last verse?
How much of this can we change?
Feb 3
Feb 3, 2026 at 7:01 PM UTC
The hours stand in an even row,
ticking beside an uneven pulse.
I walk barefoot across the cold floor
through the stuttering what ifs.
Water freezes in short and long words.
Sometimes I want to scream,
something is taking us from ourselves,
leaving us outside for seven years.
Other hands seal our fate.
A helpless anger, taken in small sips,
swells under my fingers when panic arrives.
What if they take this small room
where do we write our new lives?
We were sorted
before we reached this place.
A law letter covered good intentions,
heavy eyelids under a burning forehead.
A moment ago, the world was simpler.
What if we get stuck,
what if we cross the border,
what if we cut our last verse?
How much of this can we change?
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