Time

Days kept account of by the tiny figures on pill packets
And you've got to wonder: what am I doing with my life?
Boys changed with the colours of my nails:
The ones I might have loved, the ones that feel
Like a cherry stone accidentally swallowed.

I'm walking the same paths daily, but at least
I've left my mark. Fingerprints on a cup left dirty,
A cigarette butt, a harmless mistake. The city
Out of my window stares back, flaunting its forever;
I look up from the sweat of dancing drunks,
Realise, I am ever less young.

The days behind me snap shut like locked drawers
The future queues, ready to get going and I
Am standing still. Counting pills and days and
Looking for someone to tell me where I stand.
Scrabbling with dirty fingers at the past,
Grabbing at the future with open hands,
I want you to be my present, for it is an unknown
That I fear I may have outgrown.