I’ll try, and I’ll try again.
but only until
I am ****** into
the whirlpool of hopeless dreams
and I can’t quite recall
what it feels like
to try.
without failing

I’ll feel, and I’ll feel again.
but only until
I can’t remember
what it feels like
to feel.
without hurting

I’ll love, and I’ll love again.
but only until
I am blinded by
the illusion of
what it feels like
to be loved.
without losing


I nurture, nourish, pamper
these thoughts that form petty patterns
that my mind relentlessly shoots
into the ever inviting arms of my heart
that will accept them, graciously so

Then bleed, and bleed again.
but only until
they recover from
the pin ****** that make them leak
and contaminate my soul.

So I’ll breathe, and I’ll breathe again.
but only until reality
that formed a neat sheet of glass
shatters into countless shards
to reveal the truth that it fought to hide.
and I can’t remember
what it feels like
to breathe.
*without dying