The Shattered Hourglass

Time once slipped between us,

like sand through an hourglass—

steady, quiet, inevitable.

Now it shatters.

Grains cut the air,

sharp as the silence

we never meant to hold.

Your presence was a lighthouse—

bright, unwavering,

but drowned beneath waves

no ship could outlast.

Not yours.

Not mine.

A storm sent by skies

we couldn’t name.

Each unspoken word

falls like glass shards.

I step through them,

careful, cautious—

yet they still find my skin,

leaving marks I’ll never show.

What is distance,

if not a thief,

stealing what could have been

with hands unseen?

We were not fire,

we were not flame.

We were smoke,

soft,

dissolving.

And though the hourglass is gone,

its grains still linger,

tiny, relentless,

etching your absence

into the marrow of my bones.

-Sheeza

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