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Braydon Tyler

If you don't learn to write your own story, someone else will write it for you

2 poems·Since January 2020
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Pendulum

January 15, 2020

   Pendulum: a weight hung from a fixed point so that it can swing freely backward and forward.

 

That’s what my heart feels like. 

 

The pericardium is the fixed point and my heart is the weight. 

 

It swings freely in my chest. 

 

Like a grandfather clock waiting

 

Waiting to sound the alarm that shakes my insides. 

 

Every heartbeat is a tick.

 

And every tick gets closer to the end.

 

Is the weight ever to heavy for the fixed point? Is my heart too heavy that it might drop? 

 

Will it shatter throughout my body? jagged pieces of each chamber spewing through my lungs, hitting my sternum, tumbling into my liver and so on. Or will it drop whole? Ripping through everything. 

 

What makes a heart heavy? Regret? Loneliness? Love?

 

Tick, lub-DUB, tick, lub-DUB. Tick. 

 

Church bells.

 

 

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