• The cranks and turns of gears push time forward,
    my heart's steady beat matched to aging's robotic procedure.
    Dull throb of muscle expanding on bone,
    and clenched teeth grinding until fragile jaw shatters from pressure.
    Words to be stolen from frost bitten breath,
    stay sealed, barricaded behind bitter lips too shy to speak.
    Never bold, always silent, forsaken,
    until this path before me wove a new chapter in its wake.
    Glass flowers and barbed wire thorns encase,
    a hand reaches out clutching my bare heart daring to penatrate
    the thin fibers of tissue.
    your very emotions corrupting me,
    but oh to pluck your fingers one by one I could free myself from your grasp
    only to what?
    have my heart whither and die,
    weakened by your touch the molding of your hand,
    your fingerprints will always keep their shape
    forcing this pathetic organ of mine to function in a new fashion
    to accomadate your immpressions.
    Now I sit, waiting,
    Waiting for my glass flowers to shatter.