close your eyes, they said,
and imagine a life far from here
an interstellar paradise
without pain, or guilt, or fear
ignore that alarm ticking by your side,
reset it for another hour, a different day,
and go back to sleep with your dreams
to keep that reality at bay
but the alarm can’t be ignored forever
one day, the dust is going to cave,
and you’ll be left with empty footprints
from the former you that can’t be saved
and when your eyes meet the hourglass
and time seems a thief to trust,
maybe you’ll find that it’s not the amount of sand
but the quality of its crystal dust
maybe you’ll find yourself drowning
in the belly of that curved glass
or awoken by your time-clock
before your future becomes past.