The Eye of the Hurricane

Full on crying, tissues flying,
insides dying, why are we trying?
There isn't much sand in the hourglass top,
It's falling and falling and soon it will stop.
Will be bonds be retied in buzzer beater style?
Or have we just reached our final shared smile?
Too soon to tell, but all the while,
The distance is growing, mile upon mile.
I sit in my bed, face wet in tears not sweat.
Broken and burned out, not just upset.

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