Imprints

I’m lost
It’s 8oclock
The sand beneath my feet slowly rising to my brain
Speeding up my pace
I can’t help but feel responsible
Because I let you believe 
That you were half broken
When you were some kind of magic
The car breaks down
And the window’s still shattered
I lose your touch as we drown
Sending peals of laughter 
Through the atmosphere
Did they find you?
Or are you still in hiding
Breathing in the embers
Feeling your way through 
Before anyone else could get to you
And leave an impression
Like the  hand prints on the sidewalk
Grasping for some form of immortality
You’re our chalkboard
Don’t let me down

Reviews

[absent]

I really enjoyed this poem. I love it when poetry feels like a secret between two people that I can read, but now quiet understand because I haven't experienced what you have.
My one recommendation is something I say to a lot of writers: don't be afraid to use punctuation. Punctuation is really underestimated in poetry, but with some of your shorter lines, a period would really blunt the words, and with questions, a question mark would fit perfectly. Punctuation can be really experimental and useful in poetry because form is a big part of poetry.
Enough of that rant, though, because you have an emotional, lyrical poem here that speaks to me deeply. I look forward to reading more of your work!