I thaught:
I am getting over the heart attacks 
then I watched:
I, Daniel Blake

1917

my chest is a black hole that takes the air I breath from my lungs,
quickly imploding in on itself.
the molecules of my cells wanted to get out of this black pit of anxiousness, but the gravity was too strong to escape
the overwhelming matter

my heart is a jackhammer that palpitates adrenaline-filled blood through the highways of my vessels,
as if one wrong turn would cause the vehicles of blood cells to collide with the walls of my arteries and veins 'til it ruptures.

my mind is a tornado formed by the hot and cold air of
worst-case-scenarios that ***** in whatever is left from the village of my sanity, leaving behind destruction and remnants of mental strain.

my muscles are ropes in a game of tug-of-war between opposing teams of stress and anxiety that tenses up the fibers of my being, causing burns across the length of back and leaving me unable to move,
until the only thing left it can do
is reach a breaking point that creates tassels of exhaustion

Oh, God. Please give me rest.

Scenario's
Far too many scenario's
There are good ones
and bad ones
and those in between.
I can't comprehend them all
so my mind chooses for me
and maybe I shouldn't let it
Because it seems to favor
the worst of them
the ones that twist
my already twisted stomach
and shake
my already shaky hands.
From time to time
A bright, and happy scenario
crosses my mind
and for a minute
I get to imagine
something good.
But those moments
only last for a little while
before my mind
drags me
to the worst case scenario's

often i picture us laying down together
under the stars on a chilly summer night
feeling the cold wet grass under our bodies
as we look at each other our eyes filled with
nothing but love and pure bliss with little soft
kisses in between placed on our lips while saying
“i never want this to end”

often i picture us holding hands walking down a busy
street in the winter morning with cars honking all around us and people walking back and forth
our hands intertwined as i look up at you softly
placing my lips on your cheek i feel your smile forming

i picture all of these scenarios with you almost everyday
playing over and over in my head but the sad reality is
i don’t know you all that well we barely exchange words only a “how are you” and “how was your day” every once in a while I sneak glances at you and i
can feel your eyes on me sometimes but other than
that we have nothing i just want to be with you is that
too much to ask?

It was a romantic evening
in the extravagant city of New York.
I'll Be Seeing You drifted throughout Central Park.
As the leaves danced in the Autumn wind,
the sun began to set beyond the towering skyscrapers.
People awed at a young woman in red
wandering a long path.
Down the road, there was a man.
He spotted her and her shimmering brilliance.
In her own little universe,
she began to twirl in her rosy dress.
Her wavy, golden hair flowed in the wind
as she laughed and smiled.
As she slowed down, she caught a glimpse of the man
and her eyes began
to shine as bright as the glistening sea.
He grinned as she spun around.
As they got closer, he opened his arms wide
and she ran in her louboutin's,
and jumped in his arms.
In that moment, everything fell into place.
She was with him and he was with her.

try to imagine
your own death

at first
your mind just balks
at the idea

but once you concentrate
you may get puzzled
at the endless opportunities
you have
  of dying

warming to the subject now
images start flitting through your mind
like you were flipping TV channels

you see yourself dead
  with a trickling bullet wound
  in some dark street
  victim of street crime unpredictable

or have a vision
of a scene of accident
where white-clad helpers
carry a distorted body
to a waiting van
in vain

or you are in a clinic
rigged to electronic gear
the nurses look discouraged
slowing beeps
flattening curves on monitors
and you feel darkness creeping in

or you blow-dry your hair
with the old dryer
and the bathroom floor
is just a little bit
too wet

a plane falls from the sky
in a fireball

a stone gives on the mountain path

you ski into whiteness

the railing breaks

lightening flashes

a snake bites

what.... -

all of a sudden
  options explode
your mind reels from the truth
that death is all around
in infinite variety
and may be yours

now

or a second later

imagine

I said, "God, I love you".
She smiled and said I'd do in a pinch.

I said, "but I need you to do something for me..."
She looked into my eyes and said, "What's that"?

I said, "I need you to tell me something".
She said, "All right.  What's that?"

I said, "repeat after me"
I said, " 'wes...' "

She stared back into my eyes and said, "wes..."
She laughed a little chuckle in her throat.

I said, "no, this is serious..."
I looked into her eyes.
I prompted her:  " 'wes...' "

She smiled, saying "wes..."
I said, " 'stop ******' around' "

She said, "stop ******' around"
she laughed again, adding, "wes".

I smiled and said, "no, try it seriously  now"
She said, "wes.  seriously.  stop ******* around..."

She laughed.
I said, "want to go back to bed and fool around?"
She laughed.
I laughed.
We went back to bed.

Having a creative mind that thinks of multiple scenarios of being with someone is good for being a writer, but bad for being a person.