Time

She broke the back of time. Well,
she sat on the pieces of that marital
clock, her fat, lumbering self shredding
creaking gears that had patiently waited
for the better days of someone else.

She stood up and looked at the remains
her hollowed, aged eyes looking at the
split ends. The second hand pointing
accusingly towards her bare feet. A
stifled laugh as she thought it waved.

She stared at that broken clock of regret.
A husband who had taken her children.
The momentous love they shared until
she and he both could stand no longer
in bitter depths of "eternal promise".

Finally she, and the clock, had enough.


Info: A strange poem, to say the least. It didn't feel like a poem when writing it either, much more like a highly-compressed story. I really enjoyed writing this. Something I think about all the time is the fragility of everything, even what we think of as 'true love', or at a larger level, 'an ultimate morality/moral code', etc. Something I always return to is a man and a woman who have simply grown tired of each other. I'll write a few poems loosely based on this idea.