example

did you mean it? in the moment,
when you looked into my words and
understood the way i see, the figurative
reality that gives the breath i breathe,
did you really comprehend the extent
of which i would depend?

the lost cadence is blamed on the true nature of being
one who only walks to a drum if she has to.

and there the beating drives, drives deep into the chords
of parched want for release. you've driven me to
the edge, and i'm begging to jump off the cliff but you hold
me back for fear i'd fly out of my skin, and lose my sense
of self.

one for the money
two for the show
three, in case we need it
four is excess, but who's practicing restraint when
beating out the time by which we stone? the small
pebbles hurt more, but the big ones crush your bones.

drive it home.
the pages are browning and tearing. who's to say, that
some distant day as far from here as the day behind
tomorrow we won't look back upon these years
as the golden days, the time of innocence.
who's to say that my own imaginings won't find
home in my true reality, and break free of
the desert of metaphors, but never lose their poetry.

the motion of time often makes me queasy. here's to
the broken drum, and the forever time.