I have been betrayed by my own body.
The blood and the mind have allied together
in order to overthrow a certain cardiac organ.
Why must I be the victim here?
I thought I was in charge.
I am the dictator not the dictated.
I guess the blood was tired of fighting off the ice
that slowly creeps into my veins in a clandestine fashion.
The vehement staff of my intellectual system was bored
with having to constantly subdue the crimson gore
and covering up for what I didn't want to admit.
So once I lost all domination, they began to attack each other
for they couldn't agree upon how to oversee
that the ice be removed imediately.
The warm pulsing blood was forced out and thoughts replaced.
This was not a substantial enough barrier to hold back
the chill of what lay on the edge
crying to come in.
So these thoughts are frozen there in place;
they were not capable of escaping.
I just lay here. . . . .there,
constantly on the outside along with everyone else.
How am I still here if this heart has finished beating?
Are these worn down musings the only thing keeping me going?
If there was no more blood than why am I excogitating over this?
Why do I care? Does one need a heart to do that?
Perhaps the ice is melting.
Are these tears I feel coming on?
I'm not sure I can hold together the flood gates.
Careful, there seems to be a flood watch for your area.
I would grab some life boats if I were you.
This may get violent. . . .