Count To Ten

“This is the end,
hold your breath and count to ten…”
~ Skyfall / Adele
Count to ten.
Then count again.
Maybe backwards is the charm…
The spell will break,
and the kiss awaken,
the poison apple tossed a safe distance away.
Count to ten
eyes tight shut.
The seconds between the thunder and the lightning,
if added up correctly,
will turn the hourglass back,
or forward
depending on the strength of your need,
the heat of your wish,
the weight of your vision.
Count to ten,
then count again,
once more,
more deliberate,
beating time with one emphatic finger….
Then lift eyes slowly.
He is still not a prince.
There is still no enchantment,
the world has no frilled and gilded edgings,
and the only cover is the one pulled over your head at night
to hold the morning at bay.
You cannot count the pain away,
even or odd…
 they hold no power.
They are not gondoliers 
sculling you into a world of your personal rearrangement.
You will not turn in magic dusted circles
and dance on glass heels
But count 

About chimerapoet

I write. I write a lot. A. LOT. There are times I am half blind with a sentence ricocheting off the walls of my stupid, cant be shut off to save my life, brain. I am miserable until I get it down on paper. Punch it up a bit. Usually cross out half of it. And then breathe. Relax. Only to do it all again..... But I just thought that was me. How I am. Not a writer....noooo...not me. Writers are.....writing people. People Who Write. REALLY write. Write things that matter. All grown up very important things. I am just a scribbler of sorts. And I was/am content with that....if it's true, well then....a scribbler am I. Until the thought wormed its way in to my brain (the furtive sneaky bitch) that maybe...just maybe...that is writing. My style. My strange way. But....still writing. So here I am at the dance. Not sure I know any of the moves and the music is entirely mine. But.....only one way to find out. Would you care to join me?
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