My Furiously Beating Heart

My furiously beating heart pumps blood like punches as I lie and try to sleep.

I can’t succumb to what I’m not;
it demands to take hold of this moment like a prisoner.

The pressure of each beat is a message I can’t deny,
an undisputable signal sent from places deep inside.

One day we’ll merge, and thoughts of
this, that, he, she, her, and mine
will cease to be, and I will flow through the canals of my own veins
as life inconquerable, undeniable.

No longer will I lie in darkness, eyes shut tight against the presence of the world,
feeling the intermittent pressure of each second—
my adamantly beating heart.

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