Spring Loaded
by

Five copper springs
coiling tighter and brighter
around the keys to
the kingdom. Good girls
don’t ask questions.

Four pistons pounding
a migraine rhythm
of staccato blues
on grey matter
blinding her.

Three rejection injectors
loaded with toxic words
and deceptive perceptions
throwing up false projections
of herself to herself.

Two relentless gears
turning on expectations
synchronized schedules
twisting good intentions
grinding muses to dust.

One clockwork brain
operating with false pretense
that everything is fine…
everything is fine…
everything is...

...fine.

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