you sneak in on foxglove slippers, when i’m alone, promising a quick fix for my arrhythmia; a hand-hold in a cliff-face of expectations i never meet. you only deliver neurotoxin that caustically corrupts the gears within me. you bribe members of my union to betray, to withhold work, until demands are fulfilled. the foreman, the machine of my mind, who I once completely trusted, proved malleable. mental metal sculpted to suit the insatiable pattern of your desire. perhaps i can subvert your ingrained authority with outside investors, who value what i produce despite poor projections
