The unchangeable feast of time assaults me once again –

fisting my mind; twisting my thoughts

til I know not where I am

once again.

The heaviness of time’s embodiment

chokes me;

suffocating what little breath of air I have left here

on this earth.

Remember me, dear stranger?

I was the wasted woman in rags

who you ignorantly trampled upon.

Oh, about say, one hour ago.

The last of my dying words were wrangled from this bitter cold.

I do not want to stay for another Winter’s day.

So, I fuse my lips

and make a deep roar from within my throat’s chamber –

and there I find,

that it armors me

to fight another round.

But I am not an ally to time, my friend –

I do not wish to converse with him.

In my dying hour,

in my last embrace from this rigid, disgusting life,

I repel the universe’s generosity

to extend my time here for even one more day.

This is my last hour.

This is my last frolic among earth’s menagerie –

and though a beauty is she,

I must nod my head

in a silent goodbye.

I will be noble.

I will be humble.

Do me a solid, sir,

if worth your while,

please –

shave a few seconds from my existing hour.

36,000 is too large for me to count

inside this jumbled mind.

Too long for me to wait, too, if you really must know.

My invisible suitcases are packed

as I vigorously await for that dull, stagnant, train

to reluctantly pull into the station.

My one hour is almost up.

And with my feet twitching on the platform of death’s door,

I step onto that last car –

and off I go sailing.

Toe taps. Never understood how annoying they were especially since he has never showed up for this appointment on time anyways. I mean if you are paying someone $500 an hour, you might want to be on time. But maybe that is why we are getting the divorce. He respects his time more than mine. But to be fair I've done some crappy things in this so-called relationship. But. also. if he doesn't show up I win and I get everything. Except. one point is the nagging feeling that I don't want that either. I sort of almost always have loved him. 2 minutes left...I assume it's over. The worst part is now...I just wanted to see him.

Toe taps. Never understood how annoying they were especially since he has never showed up for this appointment on time anyways. I mean if you are paying someone $500 an hour, you might want to be on time. But maybe that is why we are getting the divorce. He respects his time more than mine. But to be fair I've done some crappy things in this so-called relationship. But. also. if he doesn't show up I win and I get everything. Except. one point is the nagging feeling that I don't want that either. I sort of almost always have loved him. 2 minutes left...I assume it's over. The worst part is now...I just wanted to see him.

An hour is 60 minutes, 3,600 seconds, or 3,600,000 milliseconds. But it's just enough time to save or ruin the remaining 26,280,000 minutes, 1,576,800,000 seconds, or 1,576,800,000,000 milliseconds you have left. That's about 1,839,600,000 heartbeats, give or take--adjusted by the saving or the ruining.

Day 1,044 of summer break. I am contemplating releasing my children back into the wild where they came from. The word mom has lost all meaning and burns my eardrums as it rings violently through my ear canal, bouncing off each nerve until I have Forest Whitaker eye.

My sanity hangs in the balance as they cling to my every limb depriving me of solitude and a minute of silence. I no longer pass judgement on the species that eat their young. I may not survive this season.

In simple stop watch

calculation,

One hour is 60 minutes

. . . .is 3600 seconds. . . .

3600000 milliseconds.

But 5 minutes added,

here and there

throughout the 24

in a day,

is Twice that.

I'll ponder That.

Next time,

I'm thinking

of melted snow

in July. . . .

on a sailboat

out the window

in Greenland harbor.

05.28.2023

An hour challenge @JohnAulus