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Pulse

Pulse. It's such an odd thing, the drum that's pounding. The beating of a heart. Pulse. Smiles hiding just below, the surface is about to blow. When everything goes, you'd better watch out. Pulse. Nuts and bolts are coming loose, fixing me is not much use. I'm just waiting until I come unhinged. Pulse. Keeping time with love and hate, trying not to dissipate. Everything just likes to turn on me. Pulse. Freedom has a higher price than that of those who roll the dice. Channeling my energy. Pulse. Purple robes and diadems. I am fraying at the hem. Trying not to blow this one disguise. Pulse. Everything is fading out. Life is filling up with doubt. Nothing stays the same for very long. But the pulse keeps going on.

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