True

A tickling of migraine
A roller coaster not quite buckled in
And rising
Rising
A pressure to push your heart from your chest and do something
A stalling breath a sigh to sign you will live
perhaps
on another plane

I am misspent time
Unopened til spoiled
Begging for my sins to be forgotten
Forgiven

I am unclaimed
Baggage
Unheeded crone
Wandering the carousels of men’s hearts

Snatching up the eyes of all the younger patrons
And hissing as they pass

Drumming my rhythm
Proud and true