Hourglass
by Katie Lehman
Grains of sand,
Rough and coarse between my hands
Tiny flecks stuck in the lines of my palm
Trapped in this curved tower of glass
As the specks rain onto me like a typhoon
In the past I’d dream of feeling the sand between my fingers
To be able to feel something
In the present I sit wondering why this doesn’t feel the way I hoped it would
Why what I had wanted didn’t satisfy me
And in the future I will drown in the sand, I will drown in myself
Asking what was it I had even been longing for in the first place
A yearning for the countdown to slow, or to speed up
A want for the countdown to cease all together or start anew
But every time the sands granted me what I had wanted
I seemed to lose what I didn’t know I had
by Katie Lehman
Grains of sand,
Rough and coarse between my hands
Tiny flecks stuck in the lines of my palm
Trapped in this curved tower of glass
As the specks rain onto me like a typhoon
In the past I’d dream of feeling the sand between my fingers
To be able to feel something
In the present I sit wondering why this doesn’t feel the way I hoped it would
Why what I had wanted didn’t satisfy me
And in the future I will drown in the sand, I will drown in myself
Asking what was it I had even been longing for in the first place
A yearning for the countdown to slow, or to speed up
A want for the countdown to cease all together or start anew
But every time the sands granted me what I had wanted
I seemed to lose what I didn’t know I had