the inevitable

*seventeen

floating away
at the bottom of the sky
like an effortless trance.
I walk forward in anticipation.
My legs slow, like molasses
oozing with every step.
my feet growing heavier and heavier.
you stand there
waiting
time is running out
I can feel it falling through my fingers;
like grains of sand, one by one, trickling down.
my legs stuck in a motionless stride
there's a static taste in my mouth
please
stay for a while
give me a minute
there's something worth waiting for.
I swear to you.
at the bottom of the sky
the time isn't now
but keep me
in your eyes
in your mind
in the way you move
in your words
Gold dripping from your mouth,
running down my fingers
and through my veins.
there's nowhere else I'd rather be.