Sunday, November 20, 2011

A Dying Heart

My heart is thudding deep inside my chest. It won't slow down to let me rest. The way it slams into the sides of body feel like it is killing me, and the feeling reaching out in tendrils of hot white pain.

It should make me happy to feel the way that muscle beats. I have been wondering if I am even still alive. The sensation of something still assuring my existence should be a relief from the nothingness of before. Instead it kills me to feel this alive.

Perhaps the thudding of that mass inside my chest is not really a sign of living. It is actually a sign of its continuous dying. Every beat, every thud, every movement is just one closer to its ever-nearing end.

I wonder, would it be better than this?

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