Matador

I will break clock and

steal moments from

the ticks of fate until

the echoes in my chest

fail to answer back.

and I dream of a

blistered dawn

nature can't contain,

using my breath

as ointment,

I'll be a matador,

dodging self inflicted wounds

that would pierce

my torso when

recollection tempts

the charge.

I enjoy the rush more

than I should.

my happiness pays well

to watch me run.