[Corneac]

Rapid gunfire
my hearts ticking past the hour,
as if my pacemaker sets the pace,
I’m waiting to wilt,
much like a flower,

Motivation drips from me
like gravity loosening its hold,
crows-feet, sagging breasts,
I feel the world telling me,
my petals weeping, on their knees;
“You’re getting old”

just as cold, the wind won’t let me go,
as he barters with me, against the tree,
I’m handed back and forth,
a leaf, caught,
struggling, to get free,

but his hands hold me close,
“She’s worth much more…
wait and see,
She’ll decay like an ornament,
Fit for a Christmas pine,
She’ll curl up like a neglected child,
fulfilling your sadomasochism,
without having to tame the wild,”

He demands a price,
Twice as high,
and I can hear the wind,
sharpen his teeth,
jagged as ice – he bites into me,

and I scream for mercy
beat my hands on the trunk,
but a slave to season,
I soon tire, and fall swaying at his feet,
but sobs still rack my body,
as I’m wooed by the breeze,

[Nupur]

I love the theme. Very beautiful poem. Lovely lines in there. Great flow, like always… wow I’m just getting repetitive. Now need to find a poem of yours that I don’t like. Hahaha, difficult.

Anyway, this one was very well done. The last two stanzas are absolutely my favourite.