With No Pulse

Forgetting how
many times
forgiven and
in hopes to forget some enigma
by these coursing and splitting
emotions within dreams;
a manic-depressed cleave
rendered like in two aortas.
We are paired in misfortune
as if beating every solemn
heart to misery would
humble the chases
for homeostasis.

But the pulse swells
faint in guilt.

Shame to those carelessly dwelling.
Shame to those eluded by inhibitions.
Shame to those vague with dissenting.
Shame to those shiftless to ambitions.

Apologies are in order:

My thoughts are
the only sentient
to race and
pound away
from via

heartfelt apologies
require a heart.


About Robyn

"If you haven't known insanity, you haven't lived."
This entry was posted in Life, Recovery (USA) and tagged , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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