It’s 2:56 am and I can’t sleep. It’s so disquieting listening to one’s own heartbeat in a dark and quiet room. Coupled with the jittery physical sensation caused by my new meds, and I’ve got my personal horror show with a rhythmic soundtrack provided by the erratic metronome of my heart.
Heart failure is a powerless position. I’m a problem solver. So I’m trying to figure out what to do. I guess the power is in compliance.
It’s so odd to realize a day arrives when your body works against you and becomes both the enemy and its torture.
Why post this shit? Because I can’t walk into the street and scream and the jitters are forcing the ejaculation.
And I know I’m running out of time.
Too soon my heart will beat me to death; too soon the sounds of my broken heart will become rote. How much longer before my heartbreak provides a soundtrack to a beaten path?