My heart is poisoned with a drip line of
hate
this questionable string of truths
heavy as weighted sand bags on the
ankles of a swimmer in the deep ocean
careening with the tide
a bauble
at the mercy of the Sea God
proud and dangerous with his
trident- ready to strike at knee jerk reflex
the cyclone prepares its own
tsunami
rough throat of passion unspoken
my injured mind vibrates a disruptive symphony
deafening, weakening, stomach churning
Dare I take the reins again?
Barely keeping the stitches in my
heart from busting open
sleep in peaceful gardens is a distant hope,
rumbling across the ragged pavement of violent deconstruction
