A tightness arises to my chest. My breath is shortened, and my brain is now rotting because of the lack of oxygen to my brain. This may explain why no words come to mind. And why my mouth has now become dry. I could not for the life of me explain why this is. But everyone knows just exactly what I mean. That first time you feel so weak, in the knees to be exact. Your heart aches for answers that should be clear, but are fogged by allusions that seem to be lingering. Palms sweaty and heart pumping, blood soon rushing away from my limbs. It's all in the words that breath out from the trembling lips, the shaken words. Head spinning, I will soon need support for I feel as if my whole body is moving without instruction. Only wishing I could ride of this unstable situation. A fool is what I am, this sham won't last. The season will soon past, and a another arise. But for now my heart is beating to the rythm of song.
1 comment:
I enjoy the "rotting" brain.
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