The other side

[vagabond]

Looking back, our hollows
became a sink hole.
Your lipstick sealed
it's smile with melted wax,
held back from a sideways                maybe better without the enjambment. but then it´s sort of an opposite to the last line of this stanza... so ok. separates the subject and the adressed person somewhat. 
glance.
There were days we could pull the grey
from our blue and I knew
without looking.                           can´t really come up with an image for being able to pull the grey from blue.

Things only move down in here,  
mouths get filled with dirt,
old boxes, mouldy with memories            
slide away unseen. Even a syringe
that carries the cure needs blood
before it can boast of success.             so the cure lies in memories? interesting together with their moldiness. can´t really relate to boasting and success in the context of the poem. 

Every good sink hole is an hour glass
if you hold your breath
the narrowing will pass.                    i have sort of a logical problem: holding your breath expands the thorax. so maybe: let out your breath. but then of course it would destroy the symbolic meaning of holding one´s breath. 
Spewed out onto the surface
I step on each grain that glistens
before someone turns me over.       i like that line but maybe "before i´m turned over" would be better, because otherwise i wonder who is the someone turning the subject over?

i like the metaphor of a narrowing sink hole.. problems accumulating. then holding one´s breath as the only solution since there seems to be no real solution. but still the substance (grains of sand) is beautiful (glistening).
since the whole poem is quite cryptic (to me) i am not sure if this is the direction in which you wanted the reader to go.