It does not give a warning.
It is never, ever, kind.
It comes like a hurricane,
Playing havoc on the mind.
The heart allows it entry.
The brain never has a say.
Time becomes a mad whirlwind
That demands the present pay.
It’s falling in ice water:
The lungs are about to burst;
There comes the gravest hunger,
With the most terrible thirst.
All the world becomes a blur,
As the hurricane breaks you;
And if you are not grounded,
It will ravage and take you.
I have nothing left to write or to say;
The days saunter past secluded and dull;
And seasons filter with no fruitful stay,
Covering the wizened mind with a lull.
Love is all duty: all succinct and right,
It is almost clinical and pristine,
Like some haloed saint standing within light;
Who is correct, kind, practical and clean.
Outward, my life gleams and I look the part;
I cast envy. They say, I have it all…
If only they could see the heavy heart
And the scabbed knees after every fall.
I’m tired; seen so much; I have had my run
I’ve paid my dues; I am sated; I’m done.
Sickness has taken over my house
And its roof and walls are rumbling;
People outside are dying too,
And the world beside is crumbling.
I strain to let go of bowels;
But there is no strength left to strain;
My body seems to give up;
I am weakened by all this pain.
Doctors can only do so much;
Medicines have all been tried;
Yet this feeble breath that rallies
Tells me soft, you have not yet died.
Hearts Still Care 
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