it is time that not be still, time that not be sweet
it is time so easily taken and destroyed and I
left tangled and consumed and buried
my ropes are shortening and am still not out

And as my enemy first perceived as time
No doubt is there now that it is myself
A sad being left mangled between my cries 
Can't breathe, can't cry out
My voice is strained and tired
My eyes are strained and tired
And still, more to be done 
And not competent to move on.
2004