Almost Willing

Can one ever know for sure?
With nothing to compare,
with nothing to see,
can it be proved true?

Feelings in the brain
are fizzing and popping--
they don't belong there--
they're confused.
Logic trying to control and figure out
the heart;
it's jolly fun to watch,
but inside it feels like
a million needles are sewing the brain closed,
a stone wall surrounds the chest as if it was a corset,
and a horrible earthquake rattles the legs.
Is this too much to bear? then fall.
Back home!
Songs of Me
...
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