Heart Beats

I painted your face
on the head of a drum
beat you till my arms ached
till my hands stung.
It was not enough.

I hung your lies
by strings to high branches
let the wind whip them, strip them
of their meaty, tender flesh.
It was not enough.

I saw your embrace
as the grip of the grim reaper
your smiles promises of everlasting peace
pulling me beneath the surface of myself
to fix me as an ornament
at the bottom of your aquarium.
It was not enough.

I beat a rhythm
so hot with rage and anger
that you were burned
and floating ash became.
It was not enough.

When I fell exhausted
I found my drum head worn
clear of your image painted.

It was enough.