Under control

 

The illusion is

That I have free will

Bucking like a western

Bronco against the bit

fit in my mouth

until I gag,

me thinking I can

do whatever I want

go wherever

and never end up

anywhere I intended

if not steered,

then driven,

if not insane

then to the edge

of some periphery

with someone

else holding me

back from the leap

but just,

enraged by my

unwillingness

to grow tame

fingers firmly

gripping my mane

and blaming

me for being

so crazy,

time ticking

inside of me

until all I hear

are the ticks

and the thunder

of my hooves

and then

nothing