Flowings of Your Everlasting Taffyman

(This is not about anyone, just a mental image I had, on the way home from Alexandria)


The secrets she held
wove and strung so
tightly
twisting
winding
the string binding
her breath, her
free range
her stomach
tightened and leather bound
the secrets so intricately wound
her own heart beat the kick of a gun
like
bang Bang BANG BANG!
and with each beat she is frightened again
and with each breath she sucks in and tightens again
and through this trend, stumbles and yearns for a friend
but her hand is cold and numb
and with out feeling,
so she don't believe her eyes and assumes that you lie
her secrets too shy, to release
and so the pressure increases
shakily she stands alone till her trembling
overworked heart
ceases...