The clock leans sideways on the wall
Time drips like paint, then starts to stall
I trace a crack across the floor
It leads to places I’ve been before
We’re somewhere between the lines
Not wrong, not right, not yours, not mine
The words fall out, then rearrange
Nothing stays, but nothing’s strange
A radio hums in another room
A half-known song, a fading tune
Shoes by the door that never leave
Dust learns more than memory
We’re somewhere between the lines
A quiet thought, a subtle sign
No direction, no design
Just drifting on borrowed time
If meaning comes, let it be late
If it doesn’t, we’ll still wait
Some things don’t need a name
They just exist and stay the same
We’re somewhere between the lines
A pause, a breath, a question mark
No ending here, no starting sign
Just light flickering in the dark
The clock still leans
The room still hums
And we are here
Becoming none