life is a child
and i am a wind-up toy:
spring turned
a few cranks too tightly,
internal machinery
strained and creaking,
key held in place
a few beats too long, and
an overreaction when it is released.
and when this tautness fades
i'll be left
loose and tremulous
without the will
to turn the gears
that will bring me home...
and all the while
He watches, laughing.
Author notes
fuck titles that make sense.
maybe it'll blow over, or maybe it'll turn out to be just the excuse. if it were mine to decide i would.
Comments
-
Great metaphor, I really like this one. Sorry I'm not exactly in the mood for long comments. >.< I may read them again later and leave better comments.
-
-
you always say that, and then you never do...
-
-
I've done it before....but yeahh, rarely. Sorry about that.
-
-
Adding your comment:
