Drumming

I hold gently

now

and speak softly.

I laugh often and make light in every word

because it was not always so.

I was true

once,

And I refuse to be a knife

Yet I feel that thunder boiling

All fire and crushing stone

Beating mad against the confines

and the prison of my bones

Prowling wide eyed at the edges of the fire.

I pray you cannot see it when I look into your eyes and say

it's alright

Not a fact, but a promise.

It is not

but it will be

Because I will make it so

and keep my back against that door forevermore