Clockwork's Cowards

Disclaimer: This piece weaves together memory, fact, and imaginative reconstruction. Names and identifying details have been altered, compressed, or invented for narrative clarity. You can read the full disclaimer (plus more about me) HERE.

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“Poison and Prayer” is where I share my poetry—raw, rhythmic reflections on love, betrayal, identity, and rising from the wreckage. This writing means a lot to me, and I’ve made the full piece available to paid subscribers. Thank you for supporting my work. -Sabrina

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Clockwork’s Cowards

A grown-up boy bears baggage,
no passport dares to stamp.
His bravado scalds The Faith,
and ignites a scandal’s camp.

When accusations echoed,
he sighed, “Sabrina, but you know me!”
So I knelt, a loyal celebrant,
beneath that false litany.

A three-piece suited preacher,
Christian crowds applauded grace.
I nurtured our young children,
while his lies perfumed her face.

He plotted like a predator,
all stealth and velvet blur.
Flashbacks flare violet,
where I explained his side to her.

“There’s nuance,” his sister murmured,
while he strolled around the block.
Footsteps tolled their sin-filled secrets,
ticking like muted clocks.