I can feel the slow throbbing of my heartbeat
When I press my thumb to my accidental wound
That stopped me from inflicting pain upon my skin
It is steady, without a missing thump
A loyal metronome that reminds me
Of how powerless I am after all of this
I remember the first morning I noticed
The slowness of my heart
I was at the kitchen table the morning
After I was informed of them taking her away
I couldn't breathe and my hand clutched
At my chest, beating it to bring normality back
But it wouldn't bring back the extra beat
Everyone knows heartbeats are not
Completely consistant in keeping time
But I would like to believe she made me
Steady, rhythmic, mechanic, robotic
When they took her away
"Hey, why do you always look so sad?"
I gave the answer my brain spit out
I remember thinking it was a bad thing to say
But it came out despite all judgement
"Because I'm going crazy right now."
It wasn't a lie and it still isn't
My heartbeat is still slow and lethargic
As it pumps through my veins like iron
So, yes, I'm a little bit crazy
But that's okay, given the circumstance
Crazy beats dead, which I'm not
Even with my dying heartbeat
Out of my control.