My bones are as tired as the dying cells beneath them.
Each one greying and old.
The hairs on my skin don’t stand up anymore, I don’t want to breath anymore.
My brain isn’t wired the same as everyone else’s.
I feel helpless.
Lord knows what goes on in there, it’s dark and perforated.
The holes are like black ones, sucking out the life and soul.
It’s like cancer, causing endless pain for all until you reach a point when all you are is…cold.
Cold and out alone, my heart lets out a moan, a moan and groan like it’s some old machine, trying to hear that medical measured tone.
A beat. A heart beat,
a chance, a slice of good trying to intervene.
But nothing happens, she’s tired.
Too tired and tried. Too tried and tired.
The storm has finally calmed from its turbulent winds, and now looks for the solemn sky to guide.
I wish for a beat, a chance and a life. A new one, with living cells, not the old beaten ones from a broken past and battered heart.
I wish for the sea, the guide and the calm, I wish for the warm and the real me to come.