If you could feel my pulse now,
You can feel it racing a hundred miles per hour.
You can feel it bounding, gasping for a way out:
Pleading for a break.
If you could listen to my heart beat,
You can hear it scream for help.
You can hear it chained in my chest:
Unnecessarily overworked and exhausted.
If you could watch my breath,
You can see it rise and plunge, struggling to keep up.
You can see it dart to uncharted rates:
Perpetually confused as to why it's like this.
If you could dive into my thoughts,
You'd know why my heart beats that fast and my lungs gasp for air.
You'd see a million woes and ideas bound back and forth: incessantly.
Too fast to be comprehended. Too agile for my organs to keep up.
And you'd know why I act caged,
By the same problem, despite a million solutions.
As my mind is consumed by trivial worries,
That leap and bound and gallop to eventually consume my everyday:
Forcing my weary body into overdrive.
YOU ARE READING
Unfinished Paintings
PoetryA collection of my prose, poetry and epiphanies over the past couple of years. I've always loved writing and composing, but I'd never assumed anything I wrote was worth being read by anyone but myself. Writing has always been a way for my mind to co...
