My chest is a drum, relentless and wild,
A furious rhythm, untamed, unstyled,
Each beat pounds harder, faster, loud,
Trapped in this storm, beneath its shroud.

I search for the cause, but answers evade,
Is it the stress from the choices I’ve made?
The work that piles, the dreams deferred,
Or unspoken fears, those thoughts unheard?

Affairs of the heart tug me both ways,
Promises tangled in shadowed haze,
Is it love that quickens this torrid pace,
Or fear of losing a fleeting embrace?

The future looms, uncertain, unclear,
Its whispers feed my quietest fears,
Am I walking a path that’s truly my own,
Or chasing shadows, endlessly thrown?

The coffee surges, a bitter ally,
Fuel for the sleepless nights gone awry,
Yet every sip brings a sharper sting,
Winding the gears, tightening the spring.

And then there are voices, harsh and unkind,
The toxic echoes that clutter my mind,
Their pressure a weight I can’t displace,
Adding to this frantic race.

I clutch my chest, will it to slow,
But the current runs deeper than I can know,
No breath can calm this raging tide,
No place to run, nowhere to hide.

Yet still, I seek the silence within,
A flicker of peace, where healing begins,
Though the source eludes, the fight is mine,
To reclaim this heart, to steady its time.

One breath, one moment, one step away,
From the tempest that grips me, this disarray,
I’ll find the stillness, I’ll break this chain,
And bring my heart back home again.

I’m getting greys
at an alarming rate,
I already pulled at my hair.
“It’s normal” he says
I swear just to debate,
cause he doesn’t seem to care.

And I’m bleeding through
my scar tissued skin,
the layers only grew
still I find a way in.

I’m getting greys
at an alarming rate,
I’ll be down to the last strand.
Check or fold the plays,
the cards aren’t that great
I’ll be down the my last hand.

And I’m bleeding through
my thick nice sweater.
It’s a shame as it’s new
and we’re reaching the cold weather.
It will stain the soft fabric
I may just grab the bleach,
but I always made it a habit
to always keep it just out of reach.

I’m getting greys
at an alarming rate
pretty soon I’ll be bald.
On hot coals she stays,
though she shifts her weight
and watches her soles scald.

And I’m bleeding through
my clogged and blocked pores,
and the remaining few
are becoming septic sores.
I’ll shed another layer
of a non-protective bubble,
and my hair will continue to get greyer,
I think I’m now in some trouble.

how sick the mirrors are    of visiting our dumb faces
how weary the door is    of being bolted for our precious privacy
how dreary are our voices  to the walls
          as they are trounced  by our mad surly language ?
are the beds exhausted absorbing our stains ?
are the chairs knackered enduring our strain ?

how burdened are the tables by our taxes ?
how taxed are the windows projecting in ?
is the plumbing fatigued
          or the electric stressed ?
how geared up and fearful are the stairs
           as we begin our ascent ?
how bent out of shape is the ovens mood
           to bloat with heat and then cook our food ?

the engines of our house are in order
though  they must consider their efforts wasted
                     maintaining our bewildering lifestyle

Yesterdays leaf
springs lithe and green,
of promise fine and fair,
todays is dry and parched and brown
its lifeblood fled elsewhere,
a cracked and fragile brittle thing
where hope no longer flowers,
how could this be,
how came you change,
full cursed by bitter hours

Overwhelming from all sides
But it’s easy to be lost in the waves
of feeling that you’re stuck
Arise now, march into the meaninglessness
of your receding breath
Weak now, more than it was last minute
Yielding in was never an option

I almost fell down the pit
But I was held up by a thousand strings
I was glad they saved me
But not the pain it brings

It took every muscle to hold me up
For the strings, I had to carry them all
But maybe I want a break
Maybe for once I want to fall

I had never met my grandfather
Because he died of a heart attack
And my father got heart medication from the drive-through pharmacy
While I watched calmly from the back
And at the doctor some years ago
They told me there was some foods I'd have to cut back
They both were perfectionists
So with my self-made stress, how can I bounce back?
I'll go my whole life achieving my dreams
Without once looking back
So don't compare me to them, no matter how similar we look
Don't curse me with a heart attack.