Premature

Wed, 07/02/2014 - 18:28 -- POIEMA

Lungs collapse and breathing is not an element I possess on this periodic table. Periodically I look track of what it means to live. I no longer have the will so I give in.

My heart was drenched in darkness. Separated from the world, I was alienated. I needed something to spark it. Strong pushes on my chest and CPR couldn’t save me.

Knew I was far from reality, just hoped my syfy mindset would change you into something. Pain engraved a mystery on my skin. Goosebumps forming phrases, I checked my pulse for a brief synopsis and there was nothing.

Tears suffocated my mother’s eyes. Every blink caused drops like acid to fall immensely. Each one she tried to deny, but it seemed all power was being used to fight against me.

Now who was I not to give my body what it was asking for? Rehearsal for what was going to happen during the storm.

This was preparation, but I wasn’t ready to come back into existence. My Family was on the verge of sleep deprivation. They said I’ve never seen someone so stuck on resisting.

Could I really live in a world that from the beginning we played tug of war? I am another little girl of this generation; nothing less and nothing more.

This is nothing I was ever ready for, but I’m here now.

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