My heart races now.
Not the exhilarating, "Take my hand and let's run the world together" kind.
It's more of a timorous "Take me to the ER!"
My heart may just need a cry from all of this parlous activity.
My heart races now.
Maybe my words became importunate instead of important.
Maybe... no.
That is why
I crave an avant-garde speech without being malcontent.
The abulia taunts me like a ghost,
feeling like a nebula
that engulfs me.
My heart races.
I've been offered a placebo to calm my anxious heart.
Maybe pugnacious was a better word,
but I reject it until I find
the real cure.
Oh my heart.
About the Creator
Nonnah Fain
My muse is mental health. I get a high off of writing. I write about everything, we are all walking stories.
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