another depressing poem by Laura

metronome

She had never known isolation

until it came tumbling 

out of the sky, a falling bird,

into her lap.

Time was irrelevant,

yet all that mattered.

A note of music;

a melody to drown in.

Her fragile heart 

now beats feather soft against her ribs

after mere minutes of neglect.

She'd walked into submission.

Her own thoughts wound a maze

around her head and 

coerced her into her own prison.

She dangled the key in front of her mind's eye.

A pendulum of freedom 

monotonously swinging back and forth 

like the rhythmic tic of a metronome. 

Thump, thump

thump, thump.

Loneliness

flutters sporadically;

feathers upon her soul.