I’ve turned the key
more times than I ought.
Wound the spring
tighter than taut.

Tension’s high;
it’s bound to break.
Two little words
is all it’ll take.

Shall I push this
over the brink?
I actually do it
before I think:

“Shut up!”


Lillian is hosting over at d’Verse where the poem is a Quadrille and the word is “wound.”
Check it out and come write!