Too Heavy

The hours shatter into minutes,

minutes shards to crush my chest,

teeth to tear my breath.

Slices of seconds slit my lungs.

Slices slither, sizzle in the sun.

Sizzling bacon and runny eggs

under piles of pancakes 

weigh me down with thoughts of home.

I could be home in a hitchhiker’s thumb

or a train hop on a moonless night.

The years are heavy on my back.

I stoop and stumble no escape.

Youth is just a shattered dream.

Dreams are burdens in old age.

I stay awake, so little time before I die.

published in Entropy