Comfortable Disease

Shaking hands, clenched teeth, eyes wide shut,
Her small heart is breaking with the finality of a terminal disease,
Lingering with intensity, growing sickly while clinging to comfort,
Shuddering breath hissed in, and a salty tear brings fire to open wounds.

Silent screams, discombobulated to the point of incoherency,
Her thoughts meander through paths of broken love,
Discontent, she sashays through barren trees and puppet shows,
Discord igniting a smoldering cancer within Eden’s walls.

A melancholy melody flutters her eardrums, disquieting her sickbed,
Her life of complacency, contentment, and gentle, white lies,
Strumming her pain, elucidating the dissonance within her heart,
And she gasps for aria, reaches for her vices, runs to her padded room.

Contemplation brings realization, rose-colored glasses tossed away,
Disharmonious passions tear her heart asunder, falsity brings decay
To the once-alleviating place of zen, physical signs not to be ignored
In a time of hard decisions and self-induced and selfish woe.

She radiates her love intertwined with sorrow in a weave of complexity,
Cerulean and cobalt flow outward from her breast in pointed loops,
Unfettered, her aura caresses her unconscious teardrops as her
Blood-red, dripping hands clutching this dagger fall limp.


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