2:54

seconds tick by slowly

each micro click of metered level shifting to accommodate the intake of a breath

of the dust, melancholy in the moment

lungs inflating with the staleness of silence

filling up with dread, anxiety, a dash of pain, a pinch of panic,

and all the things that take over

the air at late-night thoughts

and time moving so slow

that I think it must be frozen

but no,

because there it is. the number switch, slow as ever,

2:55 am.

now we do it all again.

(repeat until sleep, morning, or death.)