My thoughts bisected
serrated at seams.
Torn between reality
and hopeful extremes.
Tearing, ripping,
pulling me apart.
These chains restricting,
an artificial heart.
Within my soul
perforating deep.
Mind so worn
it begs for sleep.
Shadows roar
as twilight comes,
to this helpless existence,
I now succumb.






9 old applause
