The alarm bells do ring, face struck with precision
Not every hour, an escape route to plan
With each passing second, difficult decisions
For me the bell does toll, the horizon I scan.

To leave or not to leave, frightful anxiety
Afraid of my shadow, backwards I am peering
My weak heart does now heave, always expecting the worse
I head to the gallows, my jaw is still searing.

I make a treasure map, words they are your swagger
I have marked an “X” spot, you cut me like a knife
My love you did out-tap, words they are your dagger
You blew your second shot, not imagined this life.

Each day we’re saying that we love one another.
Some days I wonder why do we even bother.

Today’s Poetry Prompt: An Alexandrine Poem