I Can Feel My Heart Beating

by grittykitchen

Maybe, it’s time, blind leading the blind.
I find myself breathing harder, the weight on my mind.
At night, I can feel my heart beating, without ever feeling.
I’m confused, because it hurts, and at any moment, it could burst.
What a sight it would be, for my mother to see, her son, with gold.
This is getting old, I don’t enjoy repetition.
I don’t enjoy growing bitter.
It’s like death is clocking out for me, and I’m getting closer to pay day.
mayday, mayday, let’s start the melee.
A jungle for the fight, and bare knuckles for the face.
In some ways, I had this coming to me.

My heart, it reminds me why I mourn.
Whether the storm, weather, we can’t predict.
I’m sick, yet, I’m suppose to pull through this.
I wonder, why now?
Why ever, aren’t we good people?
My body is my temple, my flesh is cold, soul is gentle.
Through the days, we may find a way, I mean, it’s all mental.
Pencil my departure, because I haven’t even begun to wrestle the idea of lying with the devil.
When the moon is dark enough, then I’ll close my eyes, and we’ll run in my dreams, and take off our disguise, and my, your eyes are the reason why it’s okay if I die.