Sometimes the stars ***** me with their changes
A frightened tickle brushes my toes and a cry will bubble
A well-anticipated annual sob that will flush me with endorphins and
dump the weight of
ego and age and time and living
from my shoulders.
The world turns fast and I can feel my gut getting motion-sick
A puke-covered nostalgia strangles my fading past
and I hold on.
A heart is a muscle, it can never break
Luckily my mind can still go to bits
and I can live happily under a shield of insanity.