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Hi my name is Cardiomyopathy.
I'm 2 years old and I've already had 3 miscarriages.
A run in with alcohol abuse, drug abuse, my noose apparent.

Loose and daring met cruel and caring,
They used to laugh now but cry later loved sharing.
So much for monogamy. Did I mention my name is Cardiomyopathy?
I'm 2 years old with a mild case of marital affairs gone wrong. My mind used to tell me this house is no home.
Careless.
I played dodge ball in a glass house with stones.
Broken.
No real insurance, the love that ensured this.
Was gone.

Every piece of male that she opened, she failed...To pay attention.

Homeless and senseless.

Hopeless romantic my alias. Cardiomyopathy my condition.
Medicated dedication to relieve side effects called intuition.
Treatment unknown and remains at the throne of my wish list.

I'm only two years old. With the stress of a twenty two year cold. Lovely fevers that shake bones that create moans of twisted passion.
My addiction had grown afflicted with my stress and cold madness.

Ah-choo! to be cold Adieu to meek moans.

In retrospect. Mistress was a side downer fueled by sadness, so this cold could live long and wreak havoc; As long as it numbed me.
Recovery at my fingertips and once I'm healthy and bubbly,
The realization that will **** me will be the fact that haunts me...

You never loved me.

I choose to be cold.

My name is Cardiomyopathy. I'm only 2 years old.
Through the darkest seed
Through the light split by blood and greed
They desire that which is forbidden
Yet persevere disregarding being forgiven
It's in disgust as infestations reap its greatness
Holding broken memories we soak in weakness
It's in these crown of thorns we rest in what we believe
Yet voiced with transparent lungs we grieve
We try to fight the silence but no one is listening
Screaming our emotions translates to whispering
As we bury their hope in the ground gasping their final last breath
We except their fate
Their destiny
Their death.
Even after death we feel their words resonate
As they breach the great white gate.
They are never forgotten, they are always loved
Looking down on us from above

-Joseph B Schneider
© Joseph B Schneider. All rights reserved

For all those who lost loved ones without warning.

— The End —