It’s ten o’clock and my heart’s still pounding
I’m glad to know it works but
it’s overkill
you screamed at me and my ears didn’t break
my heart bruised from the tidal sound waves, though
I kind of wish it would stop its percussion
giving me a headache from this
emotion-sickness
I reacted like a snake
but the poison’s in my blood,
nauseating my future
unless I can
pray harder than a nun,
to the God I choose to believe in
yet choice isn’t really mine—
I was chosen to live through this
disaster
like every hurricane, tidal wave,
flood, and plague
there’s a day of static living,
unnoticed heartbeats,
near-death breaths,
gazes on horizons
from which we expect
the sun
so here’s to tomorrow,
or the next day if that’s what’s meant
to be
the calm after this storm
or the one before the next
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