A rush I used to feel, stress that seemed much too real
On this time I look with nostalgia, but from a rerun I may not salvage
Sleep always escaped me, an hour here and there how great that would be
But my greatest enemy perhaps - loss of control would cause a relapse
On rising I was oft unsure whether my thoughts were pure
Ready to fight, I felt I’d been up all night
My body is white and shakes with terror,
The effects of adrenaline caused by fear, countless times in the first year
My members swing as if to fight, acting as if they’re in fright
In addition to this, my tics are amiss
My vision is foggy and gray; I guess I can see halfway
And the edges seem dim, so in this misty night I remain; this is nothing to disdain
Thoughts which are surely not mine, images race with speedy pace
They clearly have no logic, I wonder if this result is neurologic
Sudden terror I feel, but alone I am and this alarm is not real
My sanity I check, glad I did before I hit the deck
My insides churn and swirl, I almost want to hurl
Soft and tender I am inside, it wants to come out the other side
My limbs I sometimes feel; if not lost, then here and seem unreal
Surely they are not mine; they haven’t felt like this since I had a child’s mind
Perhaps from my body I’ll detach, and float up here holding for a rematch
A chance to process what’s happening down there I guess, this is such a mess
Always on alert, with blind death I will not flirt
You’ll never stand behind me, this is my new reality
I know you’re real, but an orchestra I now sense; your legitimacy is concealed
This weird world appears strange to me, a lot smaller than it used to be
Oft I feel generally ill, I fear that **** me this great general will
A day or two sick they say is normal, but after a year or two this became my normal
They say exercise is good for the heart, but I think palpating like this is not smart
Sitting here still, now at a hundred and fifty – on its final race it may be
In circles I tend to walk, my bearing I’m trying to clock
Wobbly I stand with my head in my hands; I must look like an oddity
My thoughts drifted to life and death, what was more serious than breath?
Life I must content to preserve and defend, what is more basic to comprehend?
More than daily I faced my God, on the brink of death I thought
Powerlessly mortal I always felt, now immortal I tend to feel
Pleasant memories from this time are few; I wonder if I even get déjà vu?
Of this time I have little sense, was this for my defense?
If you wonder what good came of this, look to God without whom I’d be in the abyss
And that’s not all: accepting death repeatedly, to face the enemy I am free
Intensity of this degree I may never enjoy again; to wish for this I feel I am crazy
This is broken, can’t you see? A prisoner who doesn’t want to be set free!
A life filled with adventure took its toll, always testing my heart and soul
On the other side I am now, fighting boredom and that event – but in a way, I feel dead anyhow
From my book, "Aimless Wanderer"
https://www.amazon.com/dp/1544626347
