…of pain

An unkind mirror
an unmarked clock
ticking
ticking
ticking
in the shadowed
halls of night

somewhere unseen
the sand shifts
in the hourglass
but the hands of time
are silent and still
seconds
and minutes
fall away
like
a
slow
fading
dream

my reflection
now unfamiliar
a stranger
in my own skin
drifting ghostly
my heart shattered
like multicoloured glass
the shards scattered
beneath my feet

each step
opens another wound
portraits of pain
painted in blood
becoming rivers
that mirror
the dark ink wells
of my broken soul

I ache to turn back time
but the sand
is still flowing away
time races
in empty space
and I am alone again
with nothing
but memories
that cannot be erased
©Ann Bagnall