Keeping Time To The Death Waltz- Ward Clever
Ward Clever serving up some beautiful heartbreak
It was certainly a metaphor
Every little thing was a layer of ice on an ocean of anguish.
Every straw breaks the camel’s back.
Every moment was a shot of adrenaline to the heart.
Every sigh was all the breath leaving my body like an Irish goodbye.
And at times like this, when the quiet of the darkness can finally still my heart to machine gun levels, I softly and tearlessly sob.
I hug the child I was, and apologize for how he will suffer.
I tell myself “If I knew then what I know now…” and stop.
Because honestly, what the hell do I know now?
It feels like I’ve learned nothing, and maybe I should go back to sleep, keeping time to the death waltz, mustering up that dutiful love until it’s time for the check.
Anything would be better than this.
Anything goes and goes like the…
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