pulse

you ache.

 

little creases settling into your brain

dull fire throbbing in your joints

and a hot, cracked feeling in your throat

like you're about to crumble into desert sand.

 

you think.

 

you try not to, but you do.

you imagine things, you remember things,

you envision things and taunt yourself

and end up resenting the times you use your mind.

things that swim to the surface snap with shiny teeth.

 

you sleep.

 

these are the best times,

sometimes due to dreams and sometimes not.

for a few hours you're really alive and doing something--

either that or you're dead.

not this disgusting in-between

and that's okay with you.

Author's Note

fading like an old photograph, with only crappy poetry to prove i'm still alive in here.

Reviews

[Jupiter Jazz]

That was cool. Is this person in a coma or fully paralyzed?